We met Lindsay Lohan in the garden of the Chateau Marmont hotel in Hollywood. We had a margarita. She had a…beverage.
Can we tell people we’re doing this interview in the men’s room at Yankee Stadium?
Yes. And tell them that we’re dating.
Does it make you sad that celebrity magazines never write about you?
It does. I really wish they would do more. I’m trying to become friends with all the cool famous people, the ones that go to clubs all the time—try to get into those tabloids a little more.
Tell me about an average day in the life of Lindsay Lohan.
It starts out with a 5 a.m. hike through Runyon Canyon to watch the sunrise. Then I go outside, and I try to find the paparazzi. I go down to Robertson Boulevard, try and search for them, find them, and bring them food.
And then what do you do at night?
Well, of course, I’m sitting at the computer all night.
Have you ever read anything interesting about yourself on the Internet?
No. I wish they’d be clever and make something up for me.
There’s some interesting stuff about you. Irocman39 in Skokie, Illinois, says you’re the “smokinest woman on the face of the earth”—
God bless him.
—and that he wouldn’t kick you out of bed for eating saltines.
I don’t eat. Don’t you people know? It’s all about anorexia and bulimia nervosa.
After computer time, when do you go to bed?
No later than 9:30 p.m.—ever. On a good night, it’s eight fifteen.
And to top it off, she looks damn hot in the photo shoot. She only spends about half of the shots giving the camera her patented I'm-Lindsay-Lohan-and-I-am-confused-and-surprised-by-my-surroundings look. And I love her shoes. That has never happened.