guilty confession

I kind of have a thing for trashy celebrity magazines. I love reading about who's dating whom (English teacher alert: note correct use of the accusative!) and who's done what utterly frivolous and silly thing lately. Don't ask me to explain or justify it. It doesn't make sense to me, either.

This week I am enthralled by Lindsay Lohan's pallid and spotty druggy skin as she finds herself posting bail once again. I find myself thinking that a brain tumor might be rather good for her. That's a horrible thing to say, of course. At the very least, it might make her wake up so she could see how badly she's blown her tremendous opportunity.

I think it all the time, reading these over these people's antics: "A good brain tumor would set her right!" Or at least, maybe it would teach her to be thankful for the gifts she's got, because you one day it could all just disappear and that will be that. That's a horrible thing to say, of course. At the very least, it might make her wake up so she could see how badly she's blown her tremendous opportunity.

But poor, pathetic Miss Lindsay won't need to learn any appreciation, because Lindsay Lohan will always have second chances aplenty.

Or at least, I hope she will...because she's going to need them.