Like, to hate her a lot. More than ever before. God, will this ever make you hate Lindsay Lohan.
I want to tell you a story about what happened to me, Lindsay. First of all, all the power went out in my apartment at 8:30 on Monday. Now, Six Degrees of Separation was on, so this in itself was devastating. But I figured “okay, that was to be expected.” So I lit all the candles publicisits have sent, and my apartment now reeks of patchouli and vanilla, but, yes, great. Very Little House on the Prairie. And then the next morning I woke to realize there was no water. I turned the faucets on and and off saying “why no water?”
Then I figured “to hell with this no-water apartment. I forsake you.”
So, I took my stuff and evacuated to further uptown. Before I left I check the stove and oven about ten times to make sure they were turned out. At one point I walked back up the entirely dark, horror movie staircase because I wanted to make sure I’d blown out all the candles (again).
I THOUGHT IT WAS ALL OKAY.
When I went back for a change of clothes the next day, I was immediately informed by the handyman at my apartment that my apartment had flooded. Apparently one of the faucets had been left in the on position, and when they turned the water back on, the sink overflowed. The fact that this was caused by my stupidity did not make me feel any better. So I ran up ten flights of stairs to mop up any damage. It’s mostly okay, except for a bunch of books that were stacked on the floor, and I should buy a new rug. I also ran through the apartment holding the books open trying to air dry. That’s because I couldn’t plug a hair dryer in and turn it on to dry their pages, because we will not get power back for three more days. So.
And the thing is, I’m still in better shape than a lot of people.
FUCK YOU LINDSAY LOHAN. FUCK YOU FOREVER. SEND ME A BOX OF BOOKS WITH YOUR POSITIVITY. SEND ME A BOX OF BOOKS YOU PEACEFUL WENCH.
Picture via Apega/WENN.com