In case you were wondering, it seems that there is still something going on with Samantha and Lindsay.  How did I live previous to the incarnation of Twitter?  It’s like having kids; I can’t remember my life “before”.  

So, today Samantha Ronson lamented early bedtimes.  Lindsay — and pay attention because she finally got control of the name Lindsay Lohan on Twitter.  I think she’ll be switching over in the next couple days — replied almost immediately offering herself up.  And this is why I know Lindsay is a drugged up waste right now.  Because there is no edit.  It’s not refreshing honesty like you’d expect from Kate Winslet or even crazy couch-jumping proclamations like we saw with Tom Cruise.  It’s just an outright, cringe-worthy, 140 characters or less pussy proffering for all the world to witness.  It’s probably the biggest reason why I can’t be an actual Lohan hater.  Sure, she’s patchy and unemployed, but also so obviously in need of attention:  I suspect medical and mental.

In case you missed it, La Lohan is blonde. And has been for a few days. Lindsay was spotted leaving Sam’s house yesterday afternoon with her newly deep fried locks cracklin’ in the wind like the hayfields of the Oaklahoma dust bowl. A few moments later, Samro exited carrying an empty pizza box and trying to avoid the paps.

The question I have for you is this: Do you care?

I can’t believe I just found this video this afternoon. Where the hell were you guys on this?? I should have had a minimum of 10 emails alerting me to this FANTASTIC clip that TMZ posted yesterday morning. Basically, Lindsay Lohan was waiting outside Samantha Ronson’s house at five in the morning, and when Sam came home she totally lost her shit. The paps got it all on tape. Sam is, of course, totally sober and sane, and Lindsay is wailing and crazy and obviously totally high. Here’s a basic transcript, courtesy of OK! magazine, or you can watch the vid here:

Lindsay: Samantha where were you? You lost it, what’s wrong with you? (Sam walks to her door, as Lindsay squeals to the other girl) Stop! Stop!
Sam: Who is this person?
Lindsay: (clearly confused crying) I’m your girlfriend!
Sam: No, who’s this other person here?
Lindsay: You know her…
Sam: So why were you yelling at her to stop?
Lindsay: Because she was just touching me. Where were you?!?
Sam: Okay. This one has to go.
Lindsay: Don’t talk to my friend like that, Samantha.
Sam: She’s on my property, I don’t know her, I want her out. It’s that simple.
(some unintelligible talking)
Lindsay: Where were you? Where were you? Where were you? Where were you? Where were you?
Sam: I was with my sister.
Lindsay: You’re lying!
Sam: Yeah, I’m lying. Seriously, please please. [To the other girl.] Go to the car, homie. I don’t know who you are.
Lindsay: I’ve been waiting for you for THREE HOURS.

Then the girl walks outside Sam’s gate, realizes (???) that there are paparazzi there, covers her face and stumbles out. Sam tells her to call a cab and even the paparazzi check to confirm she’s not driving. Then Sam and Lindsay head inside.

Samantha, WHY DO YOU PUT UP WITH THIS? This is total insanity. You seem like a relatively grounded woman. You’re dating a crazy child. And you’re not helping her by allowing this behavior.

Slumber party!!!!

A bra-free Lindsay was spotted leaving Samantha’s house yesterday with a bag filled up with what looks like clothes. I’m sure toward the bottom she has the rest of the usuals: toothbrush, toothpaste, face wash, conflict resolution techniques, etc. Everything she needs to spend the night.

Where to begin?  First of all, I was really happy and relieved to learn that Samantha Ronson isn’t trying to make the moves on my Portia De Rossi.  The photo agency had the pics tagged incorrectly, and Sam was actually out to dinner with Drea De Matteo.  That raccoon tail really should have been the giveaway.  Two blondes with a “De” in their name, and a photographer who can’t tell the difference between the two — and I’m actually surprised by how similar they do look —  is all it takes to make a mistake and give me a nervous breakdown.  Speaking of nervous breakdowns, it looks like Lindsay wasn’t too happy about Sam and Drea having dinner together.

X17 has video of Lindsay arriving at Sam’s house at 6 a.m. and pathetically pounding on her door.  It’s kind of sad to watch, but it’s good for us to confirm that Lindsay isn’t getting her act together and is just as screwed up as ever.  Ronson let her in and near-immediate yelling commenced.  According to one of the photogs:  ”As soon as Lindsay was let in the house, her and Samantha began yelling at each other. Lindsay screamed a little bit at first, but then we heard Sam yell at Lindsay to get the f*ck out of her house! She sounded really irritated, and it seems like Lindsay was picking a fight with her over her dinner with Drea [de Matteo] at Nobu last night.”  You can watch the whole debacle unfold here.

I don’t even know where to begin.  First of all, what is Samantha Ronson doing with my beautiful lesbian crush Portia De Rossi?  According to my close scrutinizing, she’s just sharing a lighter.  Let’s hope it stays that way.  I don’t want my Portia anywhere near Sam “Concert T” Ronson.

Secondly, why is my beautiful lesbian crush looking like the general unwashed masses?  It’s her job to look stately and stunning and lipstick-ish.  Her clothes are dirty and she’s … she’s wearing her cellphone on her waistband!

Finally, and I find this a very difficult question to even pose, is that a raccoon tail I see?

Oh, happy day! Samantha and Lindsay back together, in broad daylight, like the star-crossed, coke-fueled lovers that they are. Lindsay and Sam had lunch at a Mexican restaurant in LA yesterday, and then headed out to see the American Idol tour. Yeah, you read that right. The American Idol tour. They both clearly loved it, Twittering about how Matt Giraud and Adam Lambert were so amazing. (No comments on Kris Allen, though.)