Another Celebrity Body Part Causes Unspeakable Outrage
by Debra DeAngelo
What a sad, strange world we live in. Troubled starlet Lindsay Lohan was sentenced to 90 days in jail for violating her probation for drunk driving, while those responsible for the biggest man-made environmental disaster in history enjoy complete freedom. Lindsay Lohan is doing more time than BP’s limp little lump Tony Hayward. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Where are we going and why are we in this handbasket?
Hollywood’s latest episode of Girls Gone Wrong rocketed to the top of the newsfeed last week. But — don’t we have bigger problems at hand? Recession? War? Oil spill?
Yes we do indeedy. There was another story even bigger than Lindsay Lohan: Lindsay Lohan’s fingernail. You know you’ve hit rock bottom when you’ve been upstaged by your own fingernail.
You see, in the midst of videotaping Lindsay’s tortured face as her verdict was read, some sharp-eyed news editor zoomed in tight and noticed something on her middle fingernail as she held her pinched, pathetic face in her hand… little black marks… by gollies, it’s writing!
“Damn,” the news editor thunk, “This girl’s GOOD. Sarah Palin needed her whole palm for a cheat sheet. Lindsay got it all down on one fingernail!
“Let’s zoom in tighter and see what remorseful, apologetic notes she jotted down for that moment when the judge asks if she has anything to say for herself… It says… tighter… tighter… it says… Oh my gasping God, it says ‘F— U.’
“Somebody get the Associated Press on the phone. I can’t. I got so excited, I soiled my Joe Boxers.”
Lindsay Lohan’s fingernail — bigger than financial despair or soldiers in body bags or oil-drenched pelicans or even that scary liberal activist-judge-lovin’ softball-playin’ lesbian Elena Kagan. And those network news editors know ratings gold when they see it: “Some Hollywood hoochie learned a dirty word! Matt, Meredith, Anne! Places everyone! Cue the righteous indignation! We haven’t been this upset since we got a peek at Janet Jackson’s nipple!”
I hate us.
In any sane society, Lindsay Lohan’s fingernail shouldn’t have been the lead story on the Today show until every single news story in the entire universe was exhausted, but that doesn’t mean that tipsy little tart shouldn’t do hard time. Why? Because she ruined my life, that’s why!
Forget the drunk driving, forget flunking out of rehab, forget the ticky-tacky manicure and its teeny-tiny missive to the world, Lindsay Lohan got my beloved GT’s Kombucha pulled from the shelves!
You’re SO doing time, sister.
What is kombucha? Nothing short of a miracle, if you ask me. It’s an icky-ish pancake of yeast cultures called a SCOBY that ferments in sugared tea, and produces a vinegary-flavored drink believed to ease a host of health problems. Kombucha soothes your intestines like nothing else. If your intestines had feathers, and those feathers got ruffled, kombucha would smooth them flat again. It feels just like that. I also believe kombucha is a key factor in my (so-far) success in keeping macular degeneration at bay, and even if it isn’t, I don’t care. When I drink it, I feel better.
Kombucha’s history stretches back to the Tsin Chinese Dynasty in 221 BC, and has been consumed as a health tonic worldwide ever since, making people feel better for more than 2,000 years without a kerfuffle. Until Lindsay Lohan came along.
You see, Lindsay started drinking kombucha in an effort to stay sober, but one day it allegedly set off her alcohol monitor (she’s supposed to stay on the wagon as part of her court-ordered rehab). She denied all this but after being photographed everywhere with a bottle of GT’s Kombucha ubiquitously in her hand, she ignited a Next Greatest Thing frenzy and suddenly everyone wanted GT’s Kombucha. Which happens to be my staple. Not a problem, there was plenty to go around.
Whether it was Lindsay’s probation officer or the explosion of public interest she instigated, somebody discovered that the trace amount of alcohol in GT’s Kombucha (less than 0.5 percent) can increase slightly after sitting on the grocery shelf. And we’re talking trace amounts — less than half a percent. By comparison, one beer has an average alcohol content of 4 percent, so you’d have to drink about eight bottles of GT’s to equal one beer, and nobody’s gonna drink eight bottles of kombucha because after about three, you’d have such explosive diarrhea, getting drunk would be the least of your worries.
But rules are rules! The public must be protected! Government authorities flew into action and clobbered GT’s, forcing stores to remove it from their shelves immediately. Before there was time to stock up, GT’s was gone. Now, I’m forced to brew kombucha myself, which I hugely resent. I’m being prevented from purchasing a product that I believe keeps me healthy and with which I have a long, loyal history. All because of stupid Lindsay Lohan and her stupid nasty fingernail.
So. Besides having to search for a good used SCOBY, what are we left with. The public can rest at ease, because Public Menace #1 Lindsay Lohan is headed for the slammer and there’s no chance of accidentally getting ripped on GT’s Kombucha now that authorities came down on both like a ton of dead manatees. Meanwhile, BP executives lounge at the yacht races and riffle through their billions, after nearly four months with oil gushing unchecked into the Gulf of Mexico. And not a handcuff in sight.
I hate us.