Lindsay Lohan - My Fake Diary

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Friday, 9 July 2010

My spineless little lawyer decided to bolt on me after my 90 day sentence, as if there weren't any grounds for appeal. I mean, C'mon. Just because I didn't show up for court appearances, court appointed counseling sessions, and maybe had a drink or 5 when I was supposed to be under house arrest, I'm not hurting anybody.

You would think those bastard legal people would have real criminals to go after instead of picking on an "A" list, role model, beautiful celebrity like me.

And this place smells like a $50 prostitute's hot box, not that I'm saying I know what that might smell like. The clothes? You would think there would be fashion consultants here to pick out a proper color of jumpsuit for your skin tone and hair color, but this bright orange? I don't think so. I'm Lindsay Frickin Lohan. I want some Versace shit up ...

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