Lindsay Lohan
Perhaps in another i.e. alternate world, this middled aged (baby boomer bona fide bra burner) of two well nigh near grown daughters felt caught in an invisible whirled wide web The Parent Trap.
Oft times, the languid days of his life seem to revisit a parallel universe, where sequels continue to air years since family time constituted shared watching thee designated Verizon Fios fiber optic channels favor by the youngest.
I confess sitting transfixed in from the television (back in the days when me girls attended grade school) marveling at the camera tricks purportedly played identical twins Hallie and Annie, but in reality the prepubescent actress averred asper the title of this missive.
A series of unfortunate events (perhaps abetted by Lemony Snicket) found these fictitious, marvelous, and vivacious separated in life soon after their parents divorced.
Happenstance and cutting edge cunning movie making wizardry linkedin believable existence of two exact looking innocent ingenues incorporating various tricks of the filming, directing, and acting of said nymph actress.
Some fluke chance encounter when both “girls” attended the same summer camp allowed, enabled, and provided the raw fitbits, whence each respective lass discovered visa vis via question asked and answered, that they shared the same mother and father.
Soon after this unexpected (believably conceived drama), they secretly plotted to reunite their estranged parents.
Although farfetched (which plot twist stretched to the realm of possible feasibility), nonetheless the story continued to offer appeal even after numerous viewings), when both my darling dimpled daubed daughters reveled in such small screen young adult age appropriate materiel.
Within a similar vein, the gestalt viz zit hid within Freaky Friday (also starring the same teenage uber vixen) gal riddled with an identity crisis twas ably, admirably, and affably evincing the crisis of fifteen year old Anna (also Lindsay Lohan).
She exudes the struggle of acquiring autonomy from her “faux mother” charmingly characterized. dramatized, and energized by Jamie Lee Curtis. The ladder reputable, suitable and quantifiable role as Doctor Tess Coleman transfixed at the larger than life superb therapist.
Despite the countless unflattering run ins with the law (sans, the emotional travails regularly broadcast afflicting the particularly mid/late twenty year old Lindsay Lohan), this chap can empathize, realize and sympathize mental health issues.
A substantial proportion of thine lviii birthdays counted from this anonymous fellow experienced profound anxiety, obsessive compulsive disorder, panic attacks, and as an added bonus schizoid personality disorder.
Thus, as the media hounds ferociously, meanly and vicious tore into the private antics of a starlet supposedly plagued with mailer daemons, I lamented the constant besiegement of popular culture craze to glean scads of disheartening, demeaning and daring to lambaste (who I presume to be) an exceptionally beautiful, justifiably gainful, and opportunistically lustful questing toward worthwhile peacefulness, stillness and to remain anonymous amidst the madding crowd.
No ulterior motive incites this astute, destitute, and glute (joyful my poop site works) tea us Maximus (palm pilot size) chap to cast his commendations in regard to one personality who found a figurative soft spot within the bosom of this beastie boy.
