I know I’m not alone in this, but I love Harry Potter. Both the movies and the books. I’ve read and re-read the entire series. I saw each of the movies within a week of its opening. If any of the movies are on TV, I watch them. And if ABC Family is showing a Harry Potter marathon, then I’m just not leaving the house that day. You know what I’ve never done while watching or reading about Harry, Ron and Hermione, though? Thought, “I’ll bet this author would be great at helping me write a f&*! book.”
And that is one of the many differences between me and Lindsay Lohan.
That’s right. Linds wants to turn her celebrity sex list into a celebrity sex memoir. Of course she doesn’t want to do the actual writing because work. So she wants to get a famous author to ghostwrite it for her. And if she can’t get her first choice of E.L. James, she’s prepared to settle for J.K. Rowling.
Lindsay. Sweetheart. That shit’s delusional. Rowling, in addition to being an actual billionaire, is one of the most respected and famous living authors. She doesn’t want to be involved in your bang book. Most of the general public, in fact, isn’t interested in your bang book. Even I think you’re revealing too much, and I once identified my sexuality as “slutty.” Just stop.
But wait, friends, don’t leave yet. I promised celebrities, plural, cementing your opinion of them. You know how Lindsay can seemingly do nothing right? You know who’s the anti-Lindsay? Cumberbatch. Watch as he makes even the most hated character in Star Wars bearable.
And so it goes. Terrible celebrities doing terrible things that no one wanted, and wonderful celebrities doing terrible things you never realized you’d love.