Responsibilities, Birds & Bees

The paps make Lindsay crash her car (again), and the uncommon knowledge (not to mention friggin’ warning label) that mixin’ antibiotics 'n’ alcohol can be bad fer ya is supposedly to blame for Mischa’s recent trip to the hospital. At least my man J.T. is takin’ things into his own hands...literally.

"She was being chased by the paparazzi when she lost control of her car. Fortunately, no one was injured."

The above quote is from a veddy good amigo to one Lindsay Lohan, current girl gone hopelessly wild in H-town, regarding Ms. El's Memorial Day weekend run-in with a Sunset Boulevard manicured bush. First I've heard of this sitch. At 5 ayem? Really?

And wasn't this the same excuse used by Camp Lost It when Linds-babe barreled into that poor Newsroom Cafe busboy's delivery van a while back on Robertson Boulevard? Funny how Lindsay's always perfectly innocently gunning through Hell-Ay and Manhattan (with Mom, in the latter), and it's always the fault of somebody else—i.e., those nefarious types who can always be steadfastly relied upon when looking to cast complete blame: the paps.

It's so Princess Di all over again.

Two things: A drunk driver killed Di, not the paparazzi, and this latest rehab embarking Lindsay's up to ain't gonna cut a cricket's worth o' crapola unless Lohan starts taking responsibility for her actions. You know, sort of how Paris didn't do with the law recently (when she blamed her law-breaking habits on her poor publicist)? 

We're behind ya, L.L., know that, please. But also be aware that if you continue to get your butt-licking campers to start campaigns like the above, fuhgedda-friggin'-boudit. 

With all the kerfuffle over La Lohan's latest hedge wreck, I almost forgot to mention that Ms. Mischa Barton also paid a visit to the hospital. The supposed reason? An adverse reaction to alcohol mixed with the antibiotics she'd been taking. Is anyone else's BS meter going off right now? I've been on antibiotics many a time and had a few cocktails (before I got sober, natch), and I've never been rushed to the hospital as a result. If it were really that risky, wouldn't they put a warning on the bottle about alcohol interactions? Oh, that's right! "They" do!

Mischa was at a Memorial Day party cohosted by Nicole Richie, and rags 'n' blogs alike are buzzin' that M.B. partied too hard with too many substances. Either that, or maybe she fainted from not eating? After all, according to an invite In Touch Weekly published, from Nic herself, no fatties were allowed at this fete:

"My fellow Americans it's that time of year, to celebrate our country by drinking massive amounts of beer. Let's stand together as one, live the American dream. Take shots, pass out, & wake up with our pants ripped open at the seems [sic]. Let's glorify this day in your sluttiest tops and your tightest pair of tsubi jeans. Even though we have no f--king clue what Memorial Day really means!!...There will be a scale at the front door. No girls over 100 pounds allowed in. Start starving yourself now. See you all then!!!"

Now, Nic's rep claims she's just joking around with her anorexic amblings. But honestly, if you're a pin-thin starlet with weight issues, should you really be joshin' about starving yourself? That'd be a big fat no. Are stars taking stupid pills these days, or something? I don't think I've seen such idiotic behavior back-to-back from T-town terrors in ages.

The most brainless babe of all has got to be Linds, though. Par-tick with this latest paparazzi-dogs-ate-my-Mercedes merde.

Chris O'Donnell, workin' up a sweat at the Beach Club on the 101. O'Donnell, wearin' black 'n' white board shorts and nothin' else (holy hotness, Batman!), spent the day playin' in a volleyball tournament and soakin' up some rays with his wife, Caroline, and their four kiddies on the playground. Meanwhile, at a more adult playground were...

Some sinful celebs doin' the Las Vegas thang Memorial Day weekend. I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry costars Adam Sandler and Kevin James, watchin' the whole one minute, 53 second UFC fight between Jackson and Liddell at the MGM Grand Garden Arena. More sedate, less violent, in the same city was...

Mandy Moore, pickin' up some summer accessories at Scoop at the Forum Shops in Caesars Palace. Sales associates said that Miss Moore, who was rockin' some new, not so cute bangs, was supersweet and down-to-earth. Would you expect anything less from this babe? Also takin' some time off was...

Justin Timberlake, spotted at Tao Nightclub in the Venetian on Saturday night. Following in Cameron's clubbing footsteps, my dear? Or maybe that sexlicious costar of Adam and Kevin's just happened to be there...oh, what's her name, Jessica Biel? Oh, and speaking of: Jess, J.T. and Cam are all expected at the MTV Movie Awards on Sunday. Will fur fly or will the former lover and current flame play nice?

And as long as we're on the edge of our salivating seats regarding Justin and what makes him pant, well, I've got a little tease to answer from yesterday's column—the one where I said I'd be fillin' y'all in on what gets Mr. Tee in the autoerotic mood.

Of course, J.T. once announced to Rolling Stone he wasn't a huge fan of getting oneself off—i.e., masturbation. So not true! 

Justin told a mutual pal that the RS statement had been "taken the wrong way," but that he does, indeed, still feel he'd rather have "great sex with someone than do the job [himself]."

However...Justin-poo also revealed to our mutual amigo that he hasn't exactly been hooking up overtime lately (quelle friggin' surprise—are you online, Cameron?), and that he does take care of things, as it were, fairly regularly. 

Good to know, and I'm sure we'll all sleep better tonight (not just Justin), knowing such all-American pastimes as spanking one's privates are enjoyed by every strata of superstar status. 

After all, this column can consistently be counted on for giving good headlines, and such.