In 1986, sperm and egg were poured together like a great mixologist’s concoction and Lindsay Lohan was conceived. Who knew that just a couple of decades later, it would be another mixologist who intoxicated dear Lindsay and splash her face across pages and pages of pulp fiction for the bored, restless, creatively downtrodden, and excessively voyeuristic human race? Were Lindsay’s parents drunk on the possibility of birthing a social phenomenon? Or was it purely boredom that brought about this egg/sperm dance that resulted in a troubled and ingenius mixing of genes. The pages and pages of magazines, website articles, photo galleries, film stills and books that Lindsay has spawned can be indebted to one solid moment in the lives of the Lohan progenitors. The brazen, multi-talented actress/pop singer/model/ PDA activist/drug user/anorexic/ hair extension advocate/Daddy-hater/ paparazzi-leech/ DUI poster child/ fashionista/ and fashion designer and muse has been the frontwoman of American sensationalism has given the world a reason to second guess stardom, fame, and self-promotion. She is the am-I-gay-am-I-not Patty Duke of the 2000′s. The screaming Mimi of Hollywood…The Bird with the Crystal Plumage whose veins mirror those of a crack addict’s. Thanks to the aforementioned egg/sperm dance to the Hollywood/drugs/booze/sex
