We all know it's lonely up there

by anna at 04:35 PM on December 11, 2004

I am so sick of Lindsey Lohan. Everywhere you look, she's there with that knowing smirk plastered across her face. Overexposure isn't the word. We're literally being Lindsey Lohaned to death, and it's like Chinese water torture.

I don't care why her dad is in/out of jail or why she was hospitalized. I don't care whether she has fake boobs. I don't care if she gets shit-faced in clubs. I just wish she'd go away, along with the rest of her Hollywood pals. No I couldn't care less about them either. I don't care if Julia had Siamese twins or what asinine names she might have chosen for them. I don't care if Jen and Brad's marriage is kaput like all Hollywood unions.

Fact is, I don't know these people and I never will. Lest stalkers get within stalking distance of them, the glitterati surround themselves with a phallanx o' bodyguards and velvet ropes. They despise common people and would sooner eat a live asp than rub elbows with anyone who doesn't use the terms clubbing and wintering as verbs. That is, unless they want to steal your wife as Jerry Seinfeld did to some poor schlub on his honeymoon, no less.

Most of them aren't even all that attractive. If Brad is really the sexiest man alive, couldn't he have done better than the mannish looking Jen? Whose idea was it to cast Julia as Pretty Woman? She's got that bony, unsubstantial figure, too symmetrical features and of course that massive mouth full of landing strip teeth. What's pretty about that? And how come these actresses never have big tits? Jeez, Deborah Messing appears to have pencil erasers where her boobs belong. With all the plastic surgery they undergo, why doesn't anyone but Pam Anderson ever address that issue?

Don't Billy Bush and Nancy O'Dell ever tire of sucking up to these fuckups?

It is amazing how much of our resources are devoted to chronicling celebs' every move. People, In Touch, Us, Entertainment Tonight, Access Hollywood, E!, the list goes on and on. Each star has a slew of web shrines devoted to them. They spend their days giving interview upon interview. The subject is always the same: Themselves and the insular little world of actors they dwell in. And what a world it is: Flit from one backslapping award show to another. Flash that wiggly-finger wave to your legion of admirers on the red carpet, mummers. Squint as all the flashbulbs go off. Gush about how this peer or that is a creative genius. Tell us how grueling the shoot was. Tell us about the awful conditions you toil under for your all-important Craft. Smile.

And please, please deliver me from the B-list celebs reading PSAs on TV. Read to your kids. Talk to them about drugs and smoking. Don't be a bully. Be kind to others. Blah, blah, blah.

I'm also sick of athlete and coach interviews. Talk about all the same: 1) Our next opponent is going to be tough. 2) We're taking it one game at a time. 3) Coach _____ is great. He's got us prepared. 4) It's all about winning as a team. 5) Whoever scores the most points wins. And so forth. Couldn't we just stipulate to all that and bring back Charles Barkley to spout about how it isn't his goddamn job to be a role mode to kids? Raise your own damn kids. And don't hand them off to the nanny so you can hook up with your personal trainer and dietician to regain your girlish figure either. Raise them yourself.