Lesbo Lindsay

Somewhere amidst this spirited weekend of Gay Pride and Fag Hagism, whether you found yourself blowing bubbles in a life-sized martini glass or rolling your eyes in a temper tantrum of male-attention withdrawal, you probably got your daily dose of celebrity gossip, pride-styles. Today’s lesbian special? My best friend Lindsay Lohan.

My lil’ cokette recently packed up her spandex leggings collection to play lesbo doll house with her new “friend” DJ Samantha Ronson. That’s the little sister of Brit producer Mark Ronson, if you know who that is, which I certainly don’t. She’s also a twin (spooky) and her mom got hitched to Foreigner’s guitarist. Samantha’s cute in that androgynous way, but I’m like so much prettier than her.

Though she insists it’s a quotation-free friendship (like ours, since LiLo keeps resisting my advances), the mean girl has been seen playing nice: first canoodling at Cannes, then snuggling on P. Diddy’s yacht, and threatening to kill Ashley Olsen for talking to her girlfriend. Don’t act like you wouldn’t.

But it’s not all love nest good times, as all the mags, internet columnists (not me, obviously), and judgmental star enthusiasts have been taking swipes and stabs at the scissor sisters. Perez Hilton – himself an uberfag – posts daily about Lindsay and “saMANtha”: who’s the man or wife, who wears sneakers or dildos, who started last night’s MySpace fight. Whereas this baggagy shit surely reminds you of an actual real-life committed relationship, Lohan bears a nagging question that the rest of us do not: is she really gay? Is this just for attention? Lindsay Lohan? I mean cmon!

Pre-rehab Lindsay had been linked, among others, to: pop tart Aaron Carter, Wilmer Valderrama (though he likes to be called Fez), my so-called teen obsession Jared Leto, Sean “che-ching” Lenon, Girls gone wild’s Joe Francis, whiner James Blunt, nanny-shagger Jude Law, alleged nanny-shagger Ryan Phillippe, and someone called Adrian Grenier. Through all these hetero hookups, no one asked, is Lindsay really a huge slut? Maybe she’s pretending! That red head from the Parent Trap? Cmon!

So put that in your pipe and smoke it, Pridesters. And to Lindsay: call me?