Lindsay Lohan is 18 years old now, so you can have sex with her. You were probably waiting impatiently, thinking the time would never arrive, but have no fear, she's all yours, and you need no longer worry about the ramifications. Yes, that whole social stigma thing attached to conquering attractive children isn't in your way anymore.
Lohan, so beloved by the kids for the film Mean Girls and a couple of Disney remakes, is on the October issue of GQ wearing a half-top, some jeans and underwear that she's planning to remove at any moment, and a hungry look that says she won't be talking your ear off about Freaky Friday. Should you still have your doubts, there is a smattering of cherries on the table near her crotch and the headline "Lindsay Lohan Isn't Teasing." Yep, right there next to "Wide World of Sports Travel," "When Cheating on Your Wife Becomes an Obsession," and "A Man's Guide to Getting Through Winter in Style"—"Lindsay Lohan Isn't Teasing."
Whew. Finally. I'd just about had it with Lindsay's teasing. I needed Lindsay to stop teasing before she headed into that sequel to Herbie, the Love Bug. Lindsay's teasing was fine when she was 12 and tempting us all in The Parent Trap, but it's about time she got over that routine and stopped being such a frustrating minx.
I'm so glad that GQ is giving us all the heads up, so that we know it's now proper to get a load of Lindsay. Gentleman's Quarterly, indeed. "Lindsay Lohan Isn't Teasing." Thanks for the green light, guys. Keep up the class act. In fact, I'm putting the magazine on a shelf beside the rest of my collection of timeless cover stories:
"Shirley Temple Doesn't Dawdle"—a classic from 1946, on which the iconic mop top is furiously blowing out 18 candles on a birthday cake while simultaneously pulling some lucky partygoer by the tie and giving us all a saucy little wink. . . .
"Melissa Gilbert Means Business"—featuring a lip-glossed Laura Ingalls Wilder registering to vote in a red satin teddy with a big button reading "My Heart Belongs to Pa." . . .
"Keshia Knight-Pulliam Graduates With Honors"—where the Cosby flunkie is shown in cap, gown, and garters, smirking knowingly at the school principal while he hands her a diploma. . . .
"Ricky Schroder Is Rated X"—on which the Silver Spoons kid is purchasing tickets to a peep show sporting nothing but cutoffs and a smile. . . .
And, my personal favorite:
"Emmanuel Lewis Monkeys Around"—that finds the comely Webster star on a towel wearing a leopard-print Speedo, suggestively eating a banana, and dangling his driver's license in that impish way he'd long since perfected.
It makes you feel old, doesn't it, when you realize you've been around to see so many happy youngsters make the leap from childhood into sexual commodity?