Book 'em, Dina

The truth is, I could really care less about Lindsay. I mean, I'm psyched that she's famous for actually having a "job" but other than that, I'm totally disinterested in her personal life and times.
Jennifer Garner?
Fascinated.
Lindsay Lohan?
Not fascinated.
I just wanted to make sure you still understand that I obsess unhealthily about the private lives of people I've never met.
But, to be fair, when it comes to La Lindz, I'm afraid the poor, pale, speckled waif never really had a chance. I was recently informed by someone near and dear to her that quite often, THIS WOMAN is her coke partner-in-crime.
Yes.
It's her cracked-out, straw-haired, spotlight-hogging mother.
And they do coke together.
Now, Dina Lohan has her own IMDB page with far too much personal information about herself. Please actually click on the IMDB link so that I can make the following joke:

(For for those of you who are too lazy to simply click on a link, I will give you the setup:
Dina Lohan's self-proclaimed nickname on her page:
The White Oprah)

Now, Dina. You are indeed a great many things in this world. For example:
A terrible, desperate mother who does drugs with her recovering alcoholic daughter?
Yes.
A wannabe starlet who seeks attention through her own child's success?
Of course.
A hooker-haired, bloom-is-off-the-rose, middle-aged non-entity who, when people ask, calls herself Lindsay's "assistant" claiming she doesn't like always identifying herself as a mother?
Naturally.

But Dina. Are you the WHITE OPRAH?
No. No, you're not.
In fact, I'm not entirely sure you're even white anymore. Frankly, that 45 year old, shake'n'bake, Carrot-Top, skin you're sporting is not really a color found in nature.

Yum-NO.

You're assuming I'm going to make fun of Rachael's tremendously beefy thighs which clearly have no business being in a magazine, let alone a magazine which men jerk off to.
But I'm not.
I was just watching her heinously clunky food network show, and she prepared "a meal you could even serve to your boss!"
Now, obviously Rachael's life resembles ZERO of what her life was like before she was hand-picked by Oprah to be the next shrieky, fat media-mogul for middle-america to worship. But now that Ra-Ray's life includes first-class flights, Dunkin Donuts shoots, and speculations over her dead marriage in The National Enquirer (btw: it totally is), someone should alert her to the fact that no one actually "has" their boss over for dinner. I think Ashton Kutcher may have done it in some frightful film with Tara "Don't look directly at my pelvis or boobs or you'll go permanently blind" Reid, but that's it. It doesn't happen in real life. I feel like if she's going to tout her self as an 'everyday gal' she should have a handler who describes what 'everyday' is like.

Look, don't try and call me on watching her show even though I hate her.
Appreciate the fact that I research that which I excoriate.