Let's Speculate Wildly About the Contents of Lindsay Lohan's Pink Bag
If you have not been following the ongoing saga of Lindsay Lohan’s latest automotive sketchiness, you, my friends, have been missing out.
Per usual, this story has emerged in layers as Lindsay and her entourage of bad creative writing students release nuggets of information. So, here’s a helpful timeline for your convenience:
— Lindsay Lohan rear-ended an 18-wheeler with her Porche.
— The driver of the truck told TMZ that Lindsay’s people got super freaked out when he tried to call 911, first offering to pay him off to not call 911, then collecting a pink bag of mystery, covering the bag with clothing, then asking him to not tell the police about said pink bag.
— Lindsay says that the truck cut her off AND she only hit it because her brakes suddenly went out, because just one excuse might have bordered on almost believable so she needed a second to make sure we all knew bitch lies.
— She also told the police that her assistant was driving. Bitch lies.
—Dina Lohan stepped in with a third excuse
—Lindsicle was being chased by the paparazzi when the wreck occurred, forcing her to slam into a truck that cut her off while her brakes went out in the conservatory with the lead pipe.
The real question is: what mystical treasures were contained in Lindsay Lohan’s pink bag? Feel free to add your own guesses.
—Sea jasper and rose quartz
—An extra syringe of lip and cheek filler in case she starts to deflate
—Totally legitimately acquired necklaces
—Mentos (she just likes Mentos)
—Nicolas Cage’s old hairline
—Packages of Activia stolen from Jamie Lee Curtis
—Chad Michael Murray
—The Cœur de la Mer
—The spoken word portion of “Oops!… I Did It Again” about the Cœur de la Mer
—Jimmy Hoffa’s head
—A half-figured out joke about “pink bag” meaning “vagina”
—The real Katie Holmes, not her Scientology robot
—The real Slim Shady
—That baby she hit with the car that one time
—Any remaining semblance of pity from anyone still thinking she’s a tragic figure and not an entitled twat in the vein of Charlie Sheen
—And crack. Probably.