Despite the fact that Big Bad Wolf stole my secret girl-crush thunder, I’m going to post AGAIN on Fire Crotch because hell, this is the first time we’ve seen her
give it away for money and not for the love of displaying her little red riding hood.
Ok, listen. I am unashamed to admit that I have a morbid fascination with Lindsay Lohan. It’s not in that ‘I’d hit that’ nudie magazine stuck to the bathroom floor sort of way, but more in the ‘Omg it’s Monday, I can’t wait to see the latest dumb stunt she’s pulled this weekend’ sort of way. And, if you know me, you know I’ve force-fed you really strong drinks and made you watch I Know Who Killed Me more than once. And you know what, you enjoyed it. So stop resisting, people—it’s a simple equation. Lindsay saves you money. The more you let Lindsay into your life, the better you’ll feel about yourself, thus the less you’ll spend on therapy bills and black market prescription drugs.
Don’t worry, there’s a point to all this. Lindsay has graced the latest cover of New York Magazine posing as the iconic Marilyn Monroe. However, she does a completely terrible job and looks like Britney in a bad wig. What makes even less sense is that you get an unabashed full-frontal view of her nips, but yet in I Know Who Killed Me, in which she played a double-amputee stripper, you get no nudity. You do, however, get a double-amputee sex scene that goes on for an absurdly long time, multiple extended scenes of her flossing the stripper pole with her ass in a semi-sheer bikini, and you see her smoke a cigarette through her pikachu (that means vajay-jay for those of you who don’t watch Chelsea Handler) and then hand it to a dirty old man who smells it. Yes, he smells it. Remind me again—is this movie a bio-pic or a poor attempt at an art film? Why do we see more of her privates when she gracefully exits a car than in a movie ABOUT A STRIPPER?! But you know, since this leggings craze she’s putting us all through started, we haven’t seen so much as a single fire crotch, so I guess I’ll stop bitching about that…