Lindsay

Today is Wednesday, and you know what that means...the new Star Magazine is out! Now children, let's all open our text books to page 44 to learn about drug addiction. On this two-page spread of the pop disaster Lindsay Lohan, you can either read about her latest pole-dancing exploits, or simply follow the photo diary of her cracked-out existence over the past six months.

Now she was cute and all when she did her little bubble-gum music, but then you know she had to cross over into acting because well, that's just what you do. I mean you don't expect her to let Hilary Duff get a skinny leg up. Lord knows those two have been having the fiercest bulemia battle in history. But like all young stars (and I use this term in the loosest manner) she had to take to the drink, and the pills, and then the powder, and it's just a downward spiral. When you find yourself in a strip club at 2 am with Kate Moss, you might wanna take a step back before you end up living in exile in a foreign nation.

Now I would never wish anyone harm, and you how I hate to talk bad about folks, but aren't you just waiting for her to crash and burn? I mean what would be the loss - another lip-synching C-grade teen princess turned fashionista? She gets more press for attending boutique openings than for her "art," cause if you really think she wrote any of her songs then you need to put down the crack pipe too. And I know, her life is so tough, her parents are divorced and she feels torn - welcome to the life of every second child in America. At least you have a minibar to console you.

Of course I want to say to Lindsay, get yourself together honey, but in reality whether she is or not makes no difference in her overall societal contribution. So I would like the tabloids to please keep their eye on the clock, because her 15 minutes should be just about up!