These have been around for a couple days, but, tragically, I suck at my job, so I’ve just now stumbled upon them.

Man, she looks like she had a rough night.

I almost feel bad for her. But then I think of what a happy day I had when I checked my email and learned that Mischa Barton had scored herself a DUI. Seriously, I got jack shit for Christmas this year. My dad wrote me a check and my mom puts about the same effort into Christmas as she does into Arbor Day, so the Mischa Barton DUI was like the pony I never got. (Note to parents for future: the pony should be pink and it should sing.) So then I think of my happiness and then I’m not sad for Mischa anymore. There’s a term for that. I think it’s “schadenfreude.” Webster’s defines it as “satisfaction or pleasure felt at someone else’s misfortune.”

That’s cool, Websters. You call it “schadenfreude.” I call it “what I do for a living.”

I’ve been listening to this song all week. It just gets stuck in my damn head, and I start to crave it. It is possible I have an addictive personality.

Leona Lewis won the most recent season of Britain’s Pop Idol, and this is her debut single.

Also: does anyone know where I can find a video of Liz Phair’s “H.W.C.”? I’m obsessing over that song lately, too, and I want to run it on here, but I can’t find a damn video with the song in it.

Miley.

We’ve talked about this.

I need you drinking.

You sure as hell better be stuffing baggies of cocaine up that dog’s asshole so you can take them on the airplane. Otherwise I’m gonna give you a serious whooping.

If you’re gonna stick around, sweetie, you need to get interesting. This Hannah Montana shit is only gonna take you so far.

Image via Splash

He looks sad. And drunk. And gross.

Maybe Cheetos will cheer him up. Or a bacon cheeseburger. Or an entire cheesecake. Or whatever the hell he’s been cramming down his throat since he used to be hot.

Seriously, who’s casting serial killers these days? They need to get Vince Vaughn’s agent on the line. Because while I used to look at Vince Vaughn and be like, “Gosh, I’d sure like to have sex with that man,” now I look at him and think, “Gosh, I sure hope he doesn’t kill me with a fork and then grind me up and eat me with a spoon.” Seriously. Homeboy looks creepy.

Image via WENN

Remember those “intimate” pictures of Lindsay Lohan that Riley Giles said he was going to sell to the photo agencies?

Yeah.

This is as bad as they get.

I actually think Linds looks sexy here. It’s sensual without being trashy. But I have a thing for pelvic bones. Can’t resist ‘em.

So fuck off, Riley. You’re a nobody.

My asshole boyfriend married Fat-Arms on Necker Island in the Caribbean this weekend. The two got engaged in August, much to my dismay.

Normally I’d take this opportunity to go on a cute little rant about Fat-Arms and her fat arms and how Jimmy Fallon should be mine but I’m just too depressed right now to even do that.

Will I never get the guy?