Dear Lindsay

Hey girl! Congratulations, you did it again! You've left rehab, for the third time, I believe?  And all before you hit your 30s.  Impressive.  The way you avoid jail time and avoid taking responsibility for any of the decisions you've made since you hit puberty is almost an art form.  I've been grounded for a lot longer than you've spent in jail and for much less than you do on a regular Tuesday afternoon.  Did Dina ever ground you?  Probably not.  Who would she hang out with?  Obviously not the other kids.  Haven't heard from them in a while.  Are they not drinkers?  You and momma bear probably have nothing in common with them.  I joke.  Badly.  You could use a laugh or two right?  Looks like you may have tried to get rid of some of those laugh lines.

Anywho,  now that I've scolded you, let's talk about how we're going to turn this all around.  I mean, they even let Britney Spears be in charge of her own kids.

There is probably a piece of paper somewhere in that giant stack of court documents on your lawyer's desk telling you can't be in charge of anything that needs any assistance being kept alive.  Maybe, if we file the proper paperwork we can get you a goldfish.  Start there. That girl up there even managed to put out some pretty solid work while she was, let's just say, at her baldest. We won't talk about your recent work, but we all know you can do better.

You definitely were, honey.  And then you got really skinny and blonde, and I guess, bored?  First and foremost, I hope you get better for your sake.  Everybody loves a train wreck, but then it starts to get sad and scary, so get better, girl.  Also, I have friends and family who live in Cali, and I'm sure they're sick of their hard earned tax dollars going toward your rehab/jail time/court dates.  You know, taxes?  Those things Charlie Sheen paid for you.  Which, how the shit did you pull that off?  I must not have seen that box on the form when I was miss filing my taxes this year.

Kisses.