what up, 2009!

ok whatever, i took like 4 months off from blogging. let's just accept that fact and move on. however, it is a new year, with new exciting opportunities on the horizon!!! in honor of this, the sixth day of 2009, i shall offer not only a retrospective look at 2008, but also give y'all a little insight into what 2009 has to offer! i'm so excited i might pee my tights (i try not to wear pants)!! anyway, here's what was what in 2008, and what will be in 2009!!




2008

• change: sure, i'm kinda ripping off everyone's favorite celebutician, barack obama, but there was a shitload of changing going on in 2008! firstly and most importantly, lets talk about b-spears. OMG! what a change!! in the beginning of 2008, homegirl was a M-E-S-S!!! somehow, by the end of the year, my favorite poptart had made a full-force comeback!! she looks fab, has some rocking new tunes out (if you seek amy, anyone? (if you still don't get this song, email me and i might divulge the secret!)), and is going to be touring soon!!! yay!!! however, brit brit wasn't the only one making changes in her life... i must also discuss the changes going on in the world around us! yay for economic collapse! when i was a wee little history student, i often reflected back to the 1930s with a fond nostalgia for times of economic hardship. i frequently found myself sighing wistfully, longing for an entirely potato diet and making my own burlap clothing (i can't even write that with a straight face. ew.). well, my chances are finally here!! viva la dépression!


• celibacy: i've always had a special relationship with god (the jew god, not jesus), and in 2008, i decided to celebrate my love for yahweh (that's the jew god name. i think god smites you or something if you say this out loud, so read to yourselves, please.) by becoming a born again virgin. ok, well that's maybe not the entire truth, but either way, 2008 was all about purifying my soul (don't laugh) through the cleansing of my body. i am pure as the driven snow, and am considering joining a convent in mid-2009. i'll pray for your souls, you filthy sinners!!


• cat-ness: 2008 was a big year for the little lady in my life, lulu! she turned one, had several unsuccessful playdates (for some reason, other kitties don't like my precious little princess. they hiss and swipe at her as she tries to cuddle and purr at them - obv, they're just jealous), had a bladder infection, and decided that as the primadonna kitty she is, she needs fancy kitty litter and the most expensive ever prescription food! yet another reason she and i are perfect for each other.


• car trouble: rachel morgan had a wee little car smasheroo in 2008, which resulted in the permanent putting out to pasture of my treasured mbenz (bratty bitch car #1). whilst on the hunt for a new ride, i scooted around LA in a cute little blue bug convertible, the bumper of which was involved in a mysterious incident resulting in some super awesome scrapes that needed to be painted before the car was returned - that was fun! however, after weeks of test drives and wavering over which car to get, i found my lovely BLUE MOON, an adorable little bavarian motor works (aka bmw/bratty bitch car #2) x3, which i love. i happily drove blue moon around for a month before taking it in to service a funny noise in the engine and a malfunctioning key. naturally, while i was at the dealership, the valet backed blue moon into another car, resulting in some lovely scrapeypoos! yes, friends, that brings the total number of car oopsies to three in 2008! amazing.


• conclusion: 2008, you didn't suck. you weren't great, but i've had worse years. however, now that's its over between us, i'm happy to say....

HELLO 2009!

• resolutions: i have resolved to drink coffee in 2009. lots and lots of coffee. and not just any coffee. i have resolved to be a CLASSY coffee drinker, and brew my delightful little roast in a french press (served with a splash of soymilk, and frequently iced, natch). i've already had like 4 cups today. my hands aren't shaking yet, so i'll probably have some more in a bit. if i can type coherently, i'm under-caffeinated. i've also resolved that 2009 will be the year of the cute for rachel morgan. of course, i wasn't uncute in 2008 (maybe in 1998, but that's a whole other story), but i vow to be more adorable than ever in 2009. i'm going to pee glitter and smell of candy canes! i'm going to tap dance everywhere i go, setting hearts ablaze with my indefatigable charm. watch out world, here comes the cute.


• blizzity-blogs: OK. i admit i am maybe just a scotch fickle with the sparkleize. i promise be better this year, blah blah blah, i will write daily, yadda yadda yadda, i'm going to be a blogging champ. however, i'm happy to introduce my latest blogging venture, designed to caputre the hearts and imaginations of everyone who has ever wondered, "what do lesbians do all day?" well, friends, muse no more. welcome to SPOTTED: the lesbian log, a blog which makes note of all of the lesbians i see in daily life. yep, i'm on a sapphic safari and i'm bringing you along for the ride, so grab your binoculars and lets spot some lesbos!!
  

there are only 359 days left in 2009, people. lets make 'em good. happy new year!!! xx

WARNING: fasion crisis on the horizon

unless you live some miserable life in a third-world-country-sweatshop where the luxury of a car is reserved for the chrisitan missionaries who drive into your small, shithole village, throw some bibles at you in an attempt to "save your soul," and then merrily whistle off to a three course meal prepared in their charming hotel, you know that gas is freakin' ex-pen-sive-o these days. in fact, today, gas is 95 CENTS PER GALLON MORE EXPENSIVE than it was a year ago. that's a dollar per gallon, kids. that means that in 2007, you could fill up your car with gas, and still buy like a totally adorable forever 21 top (made by the aforementioned third world country resident, of course)... but in 2008, you can only get the gas. MAJOR SADFACE. i love cheap, disposable sweatshop-made clothes!

now that our nation is also facing THE GREATEST ECONOMIC CRISIS IN MODERN HISTORY (cheery sounding, isn't it?), things are just gonna get worse, y'all. sure, mommies will struggle to put delish and nutritious meals on their families' tables, companies will have massive lay-offs, and people will continue to lose their homes.... but more importantly, how the heck am i supposed to buy cute new clothes!??!?! this just, like, totally SUCKS! thankfully, i have some pretty adorable frocks that i can continue to bust out for the time being (some people, no doubt, are already missing the cute-outfit boat, instead choosing overly-trendy tops, tacky earrings, and like high-waisted jeans or something), but if this economic trend continues, we, the once-glamorous and fashionable citizens of the unites states, will soon look TERRIBLE.

i feel compelled to call upon our nation's leaders: this BAILOUT can only go so far. sure, it's supposed to save wall street and ease the mortgage crisis, but, ladies and gentlemen of congress, who's going to put cash back in our pockets so we can buy cute plaid skirts that are looking soooooo adorable this fall??? what if this backfires???? will we all be forced to shop at goodwill, and not just for soft vintage tees, but also for like jeans (ew!) and shoes (ew-yuck-disgusting!)??? will i be forced to purchase poly-blend cardigans rather than my fabrics of choice (when it comes to sweaters, at least), cashmere and merino wool??? will i have to refrain from buying yet another black dress and continue to wear one of the 7 i currently own??? OMG and don't even get me started on managing to pay for haircuts/makeup/manipedis amidst this economic meltdown!!!!

this is not a flippant issue, people! sure, it's important to ensure our economy re-stabilizes so we can all live and eat and have jobs and houses and whatnot, but we are on the verge of looking like freaking polish peasants here! it might have been ok for my bubbie to wear a bubushka and quilted skirt whilst walking across russia in like 1920 (or something like that. my family history is a little fuzzy at the moment), but it is NOT ok for her great-granddaughter to look like an impoverished (yet adorable, i'm sure) nymph, listlessly longing for a new pair of jeans! FIX THE ECONOMY, PLEASEEEE!

i've never claimed to be an expert at economics, people. but i know it's bad (i read huffpo, yo), and i know the consequences will be serious. your primary concern may not be FASHION, but it's something worth thinking about, k? this has been a public service announcement from the office of sparkle. xoxox.

OMG! rmb + lilo + samro + KS = BFFS

i do a lot of really, really, really ridiculous things, all while knowing full well that they're ridiculous: i dance the jitterbug to the latest hip hop songs, i dress my cat up in costumes she hates, i throw sarah palin parties, i announce that i'm the most popular person i know, i drag people into terrible stores, knowing full well that i have no intention of buying a 4 dollar alarm clock or a pair of socks with bugs bunny on them.... and i buy tickets to a samantha ronson concert.

of course, that's not reeeaaallly that ridiculous on the rachel morgan scale of ridiculousness (a 1 on this scale being refusing to eat fresh tomatoes, but devouring them cooked, and a 10 being pretty much my entire BSB collection), because i've heard her spin before and have actually enjoyed samro's musical stylings, but, i mean.... it's samantha ronson. as in lindsay lohan's gf, samantha ronson. as in the randomly blogging about politics samantha ronson. as in suddenly-famous-for-turning-lilo-into-lezlo samantha ronson. mmkay, so i admit it was a bit ridiculous to go out of my way to purchase said tickets, but i've got to say... it was soooooooooooo ridiculously fun. here's the scoop:

my dearest KS and i showed up at the world-famous ROXY on the sunset strip, and were immediately greeted by a sea of paparazzi, eagerly positioned outside the club as if lindsay and samantha would be strolling in the front door any moment (it is approx 500 times likelier that lilo and samro were banging in some bathroom and doing lines of coke off of each other's asses than that they would be strolling down sunset on a friday night, holding hands and eating ice cream). AND ON THAT NOTE, dudes, paparazzi are kinda scary. i mean, growing up in LA, i've seen my fair share of paps, but i must admit i was totally taken aback by the sheer quantity of creepy older men with cameras standing outside the roxy, and apparently, following these two lovebirds everywhere they go. THAT SUCKS. look what happened to brit brit!! she went straight up crazy from all of the media attention! this is not ok! save lilo and samro! be nice to the lesbians, damnit!

anywaaaaay, once KS and i escaped the throngs of paps (who were clearly attempting to photograph us, thinking we were hollywood's new "it" girls. don't worry - i put them in their place and made it explicitly clear that i am a PRIVATE PERSON and that NO MATTER HOW FAMOUS i get, i will guard my privacy FIERCELY!), we went inside to explore the scene, and quickly realized that in addition to a few extra-creepy paps who had made it inside, the club was filled with either one of two types of people: high school students, and really, truly, awful, heinous 40 year-old lesbians. ummmmmmmmm wtf, dude? now i don't like to talk shit about my own (hahahahahaahahaha... that's a bold-faced lie. i talk shit about pretty much everyone. except you... definitely not you... you're my favorite!), but, ladies: COME ON! for realz. ew. for example:

• couple Y (for yucky) is comprised of a blonde woman wearing a melon-orange checkered shirt that was probably on sale at the GAP for $9.99 in 1995, and some rather unflattering high waisted jeans. while the blonde chick was a walking, talking faux pas because she was over a decade behind any sort of fashion trend (i think the checkered shirt might have been a misguided attempt to cash in on this AMAZING plaid trend (seriously, AMAZING. i am obsessed with plaid!!!), but she was clearly failing miserably), her gf was guilty of an even greater sin: attempting to be "hip" by taking a marginally-popular look and butchering the shit out of it. like by wearing awful bedazzled jeans and an ed hardy wanna-be-style light denim jacket with "JESUS" emblazoned on the back in rhinestones. i don't think i need to explain what was wrong with that outfit.
  

anywaaaaay, back to samro and lilo. when sammy-sam finally came out to get the set started, all was good! she spun and spun and spun, and KS and i danced and danced and danced (and had a few beers along the way, natch).of course, the throngs of high school girls were pretty damn obnoxious, mainly because there is nothing worse than a teenage girl (don't hate: i used to be one, so i know. expect an upcoming blog expounding upon the horrid-ness of girls between the age of 12-18), but KS and i had a blast.

throughout her set, samro was constantly on her blackberry (as all good performers are, right?), and based on the adorable little "i'm so in love" and smitten-kitten-looking smiles that spread across her face approx every 30 seconds, i think it's a pretty safe assumption to guess that she was texting linds-linds. i'm normally pretty cynical about this whole "love" thing, but i've gotta admit it was pretty cute. AND THEN... guess who waltzes out on stage? LILO, OF COURSE! actually, it really could've been any anonymous blonde as far as i know, because she just came out... and stood there while the crowd went NUTS. at this point, i began to feel a little bad for samro, because linds TOTALLY stole the spotlight, but i imagine she's rather used to that by now.

anyway, samro came back out and continued to not address the crowd, have technical difficulties, spin some sweet jamz, and disappear backstage periodically to "do it" with her lady. it was AWESOME until i became a little whiney because my feet hurt (do not ask me why i thought high heels would be acceptable for this event) and i convinced KS that it was time to go. we walked into the sea of PAPS, still waiting outside, and poured ourselves into a cab while excitedly recapping the evening. IT WAS AWESOME!

moral of the story: ellen and portia may present a respectable, mature, loving lesbian relationship... but lilo and samro's publicity-driven, obsessive-love, drama-drama affair is waaaay more entertaining. even though they still have yet to publicly admit they're dating, i'm glad they've given up on trying to deny it (UM, HELLO... we have EYES), so i hope they sell tix to their wedding, because i am SO there. kisses!

OOPS... i did it again...

dear friends/readers/momma and poppa b/stalkers/my many, many fans:

in the words of the incredible, talented and totally awesome b-spears: "oops... i did it again... i played with your heart, got lost in the game." and yes, oh baby, baby... i've seemingly fallen off the face of the wonderful world of blogging. for this, i accept my punishment of twenty lashes with a wet noodle (what can i say? i like it rough...). but dudes, allow me to explain why i've been so MIA. i'm too popular.

yes, my sparkling personality, devastatingly good looks, and gentle disposition have combined to make me too popular for my own good. now, this over-popularity wasn't always a problem of mine; in fact, in elementary school and high school, i was averagely popular at best (i'll admit i was even verging on unpopular.... ew). however, by the time i reached the middle of my junior year of college, i had metamorphosed into the glorious, popular butterfly that i am today. i even once told JPT that i was confident that if our sorority were to hold a popularity contest, i would surely win (um, seriously, i would've. everyone loved me, and i was a total hit at all of the parties).

these days, my popularity has overtaken my life. i am constantly in demand and inundated with endless phone calls and text messages that say things like, "let's hang out tonight, rachel morgan," or, "i NEED to see you, rachel morgan," or, "please meet me for dinner, you amazing, smart, witty and gorgeous friend of mine!" amidst all of these demands, i've found myself facing a constantly booked schedule. this week alone, i've had plans with the roomie, 2 dinner obligations, met for drinks, and tonight i'm even rubbing elbows with everyone's favorite lezzies, lilo and samro. i afforded myself one solitary evening, which was spent finishing my 4th re-read of HAPTDH (thats harry potter to you who refuse to give in and just love the shit out of the greatest books ever) and weeping while my darling harry boldly marched towards death.

anywaaaay, my popularity has really made it tough to find time to blog, so please, friends, accept my apology: i'm sorry i'm so popular.

actually, i'm not sorry at all. EFF that. you're all just jealous, bitches. while you all sit at home, constantly refreshing sparkleize.blogspot.com, eagerly awaiting an update, i'm out with my cool friends doing really, really cool things like drag racing and making out in the locker room at the hop. ok, well not really, but if this was 1955, i'd be doing it because I'M SO DAMN POPULAR, and that's what all the cool kids did.

having said all that, i really, really, really will make an effort to not let all of this glorious popularity keep me from blogging. i suppose that the next time i reject my many, many, many friends' endless requests to see me, i can devote a bit of time to you, anonymous reader, and return to my blogging. i actually really like it.

anywaaaay, that's all the blogging i have time for now; i'm throwing a party tomorrow and need to resume my menu planning. sigh.... it ain't easy being this popular.

ps: how amazing is b-spear's comeback!!! we love you brit brit!

an international lovefest

viva la olympics! once every 4 years (because, seriously, who cares about the winter olympics? i mean, they're fun and all, but we all know the reaaaaaaal glamour is all about the half-naked people in the sun, not some bundled-up badass skier or 50 year-old "athlete" smoking a cigarette while "competing" in the "sport" nobody gets, curling), the entire world comes together to cheer loudly for their country and watch incredible athletes duke it out, all while staring at their TVs, stuffing chips into their faces. it's always such an incredible experience, and i'm constantly reminded of my own childhood dream of being an olympian (i believe i once wrote a poem about this hope. it went something like, "gold, silver, bronze. my olympic dreams are dashed," or something totally ridiculous.)

today, i'm still envious of all of the olympians; however, while i was once jealous that these athletes had achieved the height of their sport and earned the opportunity to represent their country, these days, my jealous mainly centers around the fact that these athletes are banging like freaking testosterone-fueled bunnies. seriously! that just sounds like an awesome, awesome orgy. it's like summer camp, but waaaaaaay more fun. it's like boarding school, with waaaaay less supervision. it's like spring break, with waaaaaaay fewer accidental pregnancies and resultant abortions. it's like freshmen at a frat party, with waaaaay less GHB and sorority girls puking in showers. like, OMG sign me up!!!

of course, all of this brou-ha-ha over sex in the olympic village is magnified by the RIDICULOUS amount of attention the media has been paying to michael phelps, who's a bigger celebrity than the kardashians these days. i've subjected many, many, many of my friends to recent rants about how sick i am of the phelps phanatacism (haha, get it? aren't i sooooooo clever? feel free to leave comments praising my unending witticism!! k!), and at the risk of seeming unpatriotic, i shall refrain from doing so yet again. all i have to say is: michael phelps is not jesus. he is not luke skywalker. he is not harry potter. he has not cured polio. he has not invented a magic pill that transforms people into the thin, well-read, nice-smelling people they want to be. he is, of course, an incredible athlete, but COME ON. please stop agonizing over whom he's dating, what he's eating, where he's living and what his underwear looks like. because i don't care, and i don't want to hear about it :)

however, there are some athletes i would actually like to applaud: both the USA men's and women's water polo teams totally kicked ass!!!!!! i've had the privilege to know and play against many of these players, and i'm totally proud of their commitment and want to give each of them a big HIGH FIVE. i must take special note of one player in particular, the SPECTACULAR, BRILLIANT and TALENTED BETSEY ARMSTRONG, whose totally badass goaltending helped the women secure a shiny, hard-fought silver medal!!! congrats, bets!! i also hope that all of the water polo players who wanted to cash in on the olympic orgy banged as many dudes or chicks as they wanted to. they deserve it.

ps: you can totally see phelp's teenie weenie in this pic. i'm not impressed.

you can go back, but you can never go home again

ok so, i'm totally all about adages, proverbs, sayings, clichés and other such clever witticisms. whenever a friend comes crying to me about how their life is in the crapper, i totally pretend to listen for like 3 minutes before offering some words of wisdom like, "whenever god closes a door, he opens a window," or, "a woman is like a cup of tea - you never know how strong she is until she gets in hot water," or my personal favorite, "don't judge a book by it's cover," which is the stupidest proverb i've ever heard because, really, if we're not supposed to judge books/people/dogs/politicians/celebrities/hotties at the bar by their LOOKS, what else do we have to go on?!? like, the inside or something? LAME.

however much i may love throwing around these catchy phrases, i must say that i typically tend to disregard them as little more than silly, outdated quips designed to make people feel better about themselves ("everything happens for a reason," "every cloud has a silver lining," "everybody shits," which, coincidentally, was the only advice momma b ever gave me about feeling inadequate in jr. high school. i tried explaining that i was sad that ALLLL of the boys liked this one pretty, popular, MEGABITCH girl, and that poor little rachel morgan was a book-toting, braces-wearing, uber nerd, and all she said was, "everybody shits." it stuck with me, so thanks momma b!). nonetheless, i must admit that behind each and every one of these little gems, lies a kernel of truth and wisdom.

of these insightful and educational adages, my favorite has consistently been some variation of "what goes around comes around"/"you reap what you sow"/"karma's a bitch" etc etc..., mainly because i take serious, evil pleasure in watching people get what they have coming to them (MWAH-HA-HA, or however that maniacal laughter is spelled). however, i've recently become obsessed with the darling little idiom, "you can go back, but you can never go home again."

on a recent visit to my favorite city and former stomping grounds, chicago, i realized just how true that statement was. there i was, back in the city where i spent so much time (where i learned how to use public transportation, how to survive a total mental breakdown (yay!), where i learned that sunday afternoon is the most enjoyable time of the week to drink, where i once fell in a gutter, spraining my ankle, on a sunday afternoon (fill in the blanks, people), where i turned down a threesome (one of the most ridiculous things ever, BTW), engaged in many shady activities, and managed to spend a lot of time having fun without actually achieving very many "grown up" goals), and i was instantly struck by the truth of that statement. there i was, walking down the same streets i'd wandered so many times before, yet somehow, everything was different. i was different, my life was different, the city was different... hell, even the air was different (since the smoking ban went into effect after i left, i realized that many bars in chicago freaking STINK like yucky, murky closets that haven't been aired out in centuries, but have recently had a gaggle of teenagers playing seven minutes in heaven inside of them).

it was a strange sensation, really, but overall, i think i realized that although chicago will never be "home" again, i'm ok with that. chicago felt like "home" before because of the friends and relationships i had while living there, not because it's where i slept at night. its streets were so welcoming and comforting to me before, not because of the mortar and pavement beneath my feet, but because of the life i shared while walking there with people i cared about. naturally, there are still people i love and care about in chicago, but with time and distance, all things must change, including the connections i once had with the people who live there. so, chicago's not home for me anymore... but that doesn't mean i'll look back on my life there with anything less than fondness. i love the CITY itself, but i think, for me, chicago will always be a bit of a ghost town.

wow, i just got all serious and shit.

ok, well, anyway, the point of my long, rambling, not entirely sensible blog is: adages rule. so the next time you're listening to someone gripe about their life, tell them to "buck up," "keep a stiff upper lip," and "go forth and procreate." because sex makes everyone happier.

daddy's little whore

momma b has recently undertaken a project to digitize all of our old family photos and movies, which has been highly enjoyable for me, since there's nothing i like more than looking at pictures of myself (seriously, it has been a life-long obsession of mine. i used to spend warm summer afternoons looking through old photo albums while little brother b was running around outside, hopped up on sugar and breaking things). of course, it's also been amusing to see what momma and poppa b were like 25 years ago... momma b had some truly exceptional fashion choices, including a large librarian-like bun LITERALLY ON TOP of her head, and some reeeeeaaaallly stylish electric blue, high-waisted, elastic shorts, worn with what can only be described as hiking boots. awesome. poppa b's not escaping my commentary either, with his propensity for walking around shirtless in shorts so short that daisy duke would blush (and don't even get me started on the ponytail years. yep, i was the girl with the "hip" dad with the ponytail. until the blessed day he cut it when i was around 13, it was TRULY humiliating. thanks, pops!).

however, of all the pictures we've recently revisited, one stands out. mainly because i look like a freaking child prostitute in it. "oh, it can't be that bad," you're probably saying, or "that rachel morgan - always telling lies!" well, friends. take a gander at the photo below and pick out the one little girl who looks like she's spent the entire 6 years of her life blowing her classmates during kindergarten naptime (those little blue mats were so conducive towards preventing rugburn!):
if you picked the little lolita front and center, you're right. that mini hooker is none other than your very own rachel morgan!! now, i normally avoid putting photos of myself on my blog (mainly because psycho poppa b would have an aneurysm and claim that some obsessed fan/internet stalker/death row inmate is going to somehow find me and murder me in my sleep), but i just can't resist (and i'm confident that i'm no longer 3 feet tall, have grown teeth and tits, and am wearing enough makeup in this photo to be mistaken for a clown, and am thus, safe from any would-be serial killers). besides, this photo is ridiculously funny. look at all of the other six year olds , smiling with their half-toothed grins, thinking to themselves, "gee, i hope mommy doesn't find out i ate all of that dirt earlier!" (girl on far left) or, "i wonder how my dead bug collection is coming along?" (talking to you, back row on the left), or "i am an AMAZING ballerina!" (smug little bitch on the far right of the middle row).

but me? what does rachel morgan's face say? oooh something along the lines of: "hello there, daaaaahhhling. i've been waiting for you. i just melted some wax. it's warm and sticky... come over here so i can pour it all over your hot, steamy body." i mean, honestly - i think this is the sexiest i've ever looked in a photo! these days, whenever a camera's around i smile and i'm all like, "woohooo !!! i like to party!!" but somehow, when i was six, i was a smoldering temptress, ready to devour any man who crossed my path, and with bedroom eyes that i'd kill for 20 years later! no wonder i'm single! i reached the height of my sexual seduction at the age of 6!!!! check out the sexxxxxy:


although this radiating sexuality obviously came to me naturally, i must admit that the whore makeup doesn't help the situation. what type of sick bastard would let their little girl wear that much makeup, you might ask? only one man would be so foolishly brash: poppa b. moreover, poppa b put that much makeup on me!! ON PURPOSE!!! so, poppa b, count your lucky stars that i'm not some gutter-rat whore today, because, really, if i look this slutty at 6, i could've turned out sooooooooooooooo much worse. instead of being the smart, classy (i use that term loosely, obviously) blogger that i am today, i could have continued along this path and looked like ali lohan by 14 (aka total freaking slutwhorehookerface), lindsay lohan by 21 (coked-out vagina flasher), and dina lohan by the time i reach 40 (fake from head to toe and getting kicked out of parties for being belligerently wasted and giving hand jobs in exchange for drugs and publicity). phew! really dodged a bullet with that one!!