Over the weekend, someone tried to get all up in my girl’s grill.
Some McCreepson decided to stroll on over to my BFF’s casa on Sunday to ring in the new year with a whiff of rojo fire. This rando whackjob clearly knew that 2012 is the year of the firecrotchdragon. But seriously, this guy tried to tell Freckles McNips that he’s a buddy of her old stalker and that it’s all good in the hood and just wants to gab. Ninja, please. If you’re not holding a care package chock full of p-funks, Jolt Soda, a voodoo doll of Hilary Duff, Pop rocks, Molly, Blow, Makeup Wipes, Trojans, and other assorted numbing agents, your ass better flee from Lilo’s lair. She wants the goods. I bet she was FIRED UP – expecting one of her steady late night gentleman (or sometimes lady) callers, ready to make all sorts of In the Night Kitchen mischief – and ended up with Buffalo Bill/Her Dad Jr. I’m frankly shocked that Lindz didn’t erupt… homegirl has had plenty of practice in the merking department, i.e posing with knives with Vanessa Lachey and ruinig lives in Burn Books.
According to the sleezbuckets over at TMZ:
On top of adding additional security cameras — we’re told Lindsay wants to hire a full-time bodyguard to stay with her for a period of time … until she feels safe again..
Bodyguards are for people who can actually be contained. Good luck to whichever Gorilla Juicehead ends up in that post. Five bucks says she’s confusing the idea of “bodyguard” for “jungle fever Madonna affair stint.” Can’t hold this bitty down. Ever. Need proof? Check this ish: