OK, this pretty much epitomizes the self-centered celebrity image.

Lindsay Lohan is suing E-Trade over that Super Bowl ad where the babies are talking about stock trading and that one baby calls another baby named Lindsay a “milkaholic” and OBVIOUSLY THIS IS ABOUT LINDSAY LOHAN.

For realz, you guys. She’s suing for $100M — that’s $50 million in compensatory damages and $50 million of exemplary damages. The lawsuit also demanded that E-Trade stop running the ad and turn over all copies to her.

The suit claims the character of baby Lindsay improperly invoked her “likeness, name, characterization and personality” without permission, violating her right of privacy.

Lohan’s lawyer, Stephanie Ovadia, tells the New York Post: “Many celebrities are known by one name only, and E-Trade is using that knowledge to profit. They used the name Lindsay. They’re using her name as a parody of her life. Why didn’t they use the name Susan? This is a subliminal message. Everybody’s talking about it and saying it’s Lindsay Lohan.”

Jesus Christ. IT’S NOT LIKE THEY NAMED THE BABY OMAROSA.

Chris Brown, a spokesman for Grey Group, which produced the spot, says it “just used a popular baby name that happened to be the name of someone on the account team.”

WOAH. Either it’s already April 1st or E-Trade has already paid Lindsay Lohan for the publicity this lawsuit is going to create for them, because this is complete and total madness. It’s like my entire job to keep an eye on what people are saying and thinking about Lindsay Lohan, and this is the very first I’ve heard of this. THIS IS RIDICULOUS, LINDSAY. YOU’RE NOT EVEN THAT RELEVANT ANYMORE.

Get a fucking job.

In other, sort of stranger news — and let me be clear that I DO NOT WANT TO HAVE SEX WITH A BABY — but I’m kind of turned on by the voice of the douchebag behind the trader baby. Even though I know he’s a douchebag who’s going to cheat on me and pretend that he can fix it by buying me a nice purse and taking me to a fancy dinner where he’ll wear an overpriced douchebag suit and talk about the stock market and check his cell phone for text messages every ten minutes until he finally just takes it out of his pocket and sets it on the table and interrupts me to answer it and talk with a client about the football game last night and even the gay waiter kind of rolls his eyes and glances at me like “You’re really gonna put up with this bullshit?” and then I will go home with him that night and have sex with him even though I will spend most of that experience with my head turned aside, rolling my eyes and wishing I could be texting during this bullshit, and he will ask me in the morning if I’ll make him a bowl of cereal and I will do that and when I bring it to him he will be on his cell phone talking about the stock market. I WANT THAT.

Why are women so stupid? It’s probably because we all have to share a chromosome with Lindsay Lohan.

It’s a television show on Bravo that follows the life and work of self-proclaimed “power girl” Kelly Cutrone. She runs a fashion PR firm where associates and partners and junior associates run around screaming at each other and then Kelly screams louder. She’s co-authoring a book called If You Have to Cry, Go Outside. She’s got this mentality that the most important thing in this world is to have power, and that to have power you absolutely must treat everyone else as though their feelings don’t exist.

She fascinates me. I disagree with everything about her. I disagree, firstly, with the notion that you cannot have a staff that respects and works hard for you without constantly cutting them down. I hate the way she and all her minions run around, causing drama, creating problems, and hurting each other’s feelings, as though this is the only way a successful organization can be run. She has one Jr. Account Executive who looks like she hasn’t, honestly, slept in three months. Like her undereye circles were tattooed there. Like if you stuck her in a room with a bottle of Ambien and a nice warm bed and good books and a DVD player and a vibrator and told her she couldn’t come out for a week, NOBODY WOULD RECOGNIZE THE GIRL WHO LEAVES THAT ROOM.

While my career is important to me, I never think of it in terms of power. I think of it in terms of creative fulfillment — of what I can do to feel productive while creating something that has value to others. While providing my teammates with the respect and accolades they deserve and making it clear to them, politely, when they need to work harder and differently. When you do it that way, you also get good results. It’s not the trial-by-fire method Kelly uses, but, man, it keeps my business running smoothly and stress-free. I, personally, prefer that to drama.

I also do not want to grow up to have the “modern parenting” arrangement Kelly seems so proud of, where she raises her 7-year-old daughter in their loft above her company’s offices and manages to squeeze in an hour a day of time with her, most of which appears to be spent telling her daughter how pretty she looks after the nannies have dressed her, and her daughter’s “modern” father lives in Europe and seems to, at least, have his daughter’s phone number and coo at her long-distance, all the while fucking Kelly when she happens to be on the same continent. Like, this is not something to aspire to, people, and having a successful career is not necessarily synonymous with the sacrifice of family life and basic human-to-human kindness. If Kelly didn’t set such a dramatastic example for her employees, that would not be the culture of the entire firm. Issues could be addressed in a normal tone of voice, and people could say please and thank you, and take time to put themselves in the other person’s shoes and see how they could help. They could possibly step outside their own egos and this drama on which they thrive, and they could work toward what was best for the firm. It wouldn’t have to look like a battlezone.

Powerful, successful women don’t have to have “modern parenting” arrangements to cover for the fact that they had a child with a man and he peaced out and you haven’t dated since and the nannies raise your kids. There are many “modern parenting” arrangements I like — the father can be a stay-at-home dad while the mom works. Both parents can work part-time. But essentially leaving your child to be raised by nannies, and popping in every now and then to coo at her jacket or take her to a photo shot, is not “modern parenting,” unless we’d like to expand the phrase to include “child-rearing outsourcing.”

The point is this, ladies: Kell on Earth — and the opinion of Kelly Cutrone, specifically — is polarizing, and it sends a message with which I firmly disagree. The message is this: Either you are an power-obsessed gazillionaire drama queen like Kelly whose life is full-time stress and her relationship with her family is loose at best, or you better just sit at home and bake cookies, or, at the very least, resign yourself to the middle management position at that insurance firm. THERE IS A MIDDLE GROUND, LADIES. We don’t have a lot of high-profile role models for it, because those people don’t make good television, but there are plenty of women out there running wildly successful companies using collaborative management strategies and positive reinforcement and who allow their talent and skill to do most of the heavy lifting for them. There are many ways to be a “power bitch.” You can achieve the same results without wielding power as a defensive shield, and you can certainly do it without being a bitch. You can be assertive without talking to people as though they are less valuable than you are. Remember that doing it Kelly’s way means you live Kelly’s life, and that’s not in any way appealing to me.

Work hard, ladies, and treat each other with respect and humility. And then maybe one day you’ll run a hyper-successful company and you’ll still have the emotional wherewithall to actually be a primary caregiver to your child and still have time to wear lipstick. It’s possible.

In a recent interview with Queen of the Stone-Age, Barbara Walters, there appear to be some regretful vibes floating around.

Walters, who infamously interviewed Ricky Martin in 2000, claims that her “push” for Martin to acknowledge which team he pitched for inadvertently ruined his career.  Although Barbara has never shied away from interrogating celebrities about their sexual orientation, Walters claims that the interview with Ricky Martin was her’ most regrettable interview to date.

“In 2000, I pushed Ricky Martin very hard to admit if he was gay or not, and the way he refused to do it made everyone decide that he was. A lot of people say that destroyed his career, and when I think back on it now I feel it was an inappropriate question.”

Whether he is or isn’t or was or wasn’t doesn’t really amount to anything. It’s not like questions like those are really relevant, anyway.  But, Barbie, dear, I wouldn’t take it to heart.  Martin’s career was probably over before it began as it were.  For Christ’s sake, he started off with Menudo. If that’s not preemptive career suicide, nothing is.

Heidi Montag does the obligatory Funny or Die spoof on her use of plastic to pay for her plastic appendages.  While it’s interesting to see the way her face sometimes-does and sometimes-doesn’t move (and that … odd, radioactive glow) it’s still a pretty lame attempt at humor.  I went into this rather optimistically, thinking that maybe Montag would take a swipe at her own monstrous plastic surgery overhaul, but it turned into a commercial for the Consumer Protection Act instead.  And an un-funny one at that.

I dunno.   I thought Lindsay Lohan’s Funny or Die was way funnier, even if it had a more self-deprecating tone to it.  If anyone’s Hollywood pseudo-alter ego needs a little bit of funnying up, it’s definitely Heidi’s.

Be sure to watch for Spencer “Toolbox” Pratt’s cameo appearance. This whole thing was probably his idea, anyway.

That’s a trick question, y’all, like “How many licks does it take to get the center of a Tootsie Pop?” NOBODY KNOWS because that goddamn owl keeps fucking everything up.

I have no idea where I’m trying to go with this post.

Lindsay Lohan — who is definitely not designing for Ungaro anymore, and they want to make damn sure you know that — spent yet another day trolling around Paris in godawful clothes. Several different sets of godawful clothes. Enjoy them all in the gallery below.

According to recent interviews by the late Michael Jackson’s bodyguards, the King of Pop had a plethora of pussy to pick from when it came to procreating, believe it or not.

Mike Garcia, Bill Whitfield and Javon Beard were interviewed by Good Morning America and claimed that the deceased Jackson had often been driven around while he “made out” with various women in the back of his limousine.  The bodyguards claim that “men know men” and Jackson had “desires of women.”  It was also said that Jackson would turn magazines around in stores that portrayed negative images of the singer. The bodyguards also insinuated that Jackson had been unaware of what purpose a prostitute served and why a woman would be out in such a dangerous area so late at night.

What do you guys think, after-death image resurrection or are these guys telling the truth?