Spectator Sport

I have no idea if the organizers of F1 Rocks! were a sheltered bunch. Or maybe Singapore is too sanitized to realize what a kiss of death Lindsay Lohan has become. I've personally wasted enough time on internet gossip sites to follow the ongoing Chernobyl meltdown that is La Lohan, or, as one of my favorite sites calls her, "Blohan." So, given all that I've read and seen about her in the internet tabs, I didn't quite believe the press items about Lindsay "hosting" F1 Rocks!

I used to feel sorry for poor Linds. I liked her in Mean Girls and thought she was a good actress. Even Meryl Streep, her co-star in  A Prairie Home Companion, thought so, too, for she went to the length of defending Lohan when talk of her rumored drug usage and wild partying first surfaced.

Magnificent Meryl's silence on - and subsequent non-involvement in - the issue since then is more telling than any signature Miranda Priestly stare.

Lohan's antics used to be amusingly scandalous - a flash of her famous firecrotch here (pic NSFW, but look if you don't mind meatcurtains), a meltdown with lesbian lover (and now ex) Samantha Ronson there. But her antics - along with her insistence on self-destruction - have grown tiresome. After all, Lindsay Lohan had everything : beauty, fame, talent, riches. And yet she seems hell-bent on just pissing everything away on coke, booze, and meth benders.

Anyhow, this post isn't just about Lohan's continuous downward spiral. It's about me personally witnessing a moment, just one among many, in Lindsay's star turn to hell.

Shortly after Simple Minds awoke me from my bored stupor by singing Don't You Forget About Me, I sauntered off to one of the open bars to grab a drink. On the vidiwall, I saw a confused-looking blonde woman wearing a racing helmet onstage, with her back to the crowd and looking agitated as she spoke to someone off-cam.

"Who is that wreck and what the heck is she doing up there?" I thought as I gazed absently at the screens. And then, like a boulder tumbling off a cliff, the realization hit: it was LindsayeffinLohan.

Considering Lohan's long and heavily-rumored love affair with drugs, I couldn't help but wonder how she even managed to enter a country where drug possession is punishable by death. I also wondered if the entire F1 event would be later upstaged by headlines screaming "Hollywood Starlet Busted for Drugs in Singapore!" I was also too busy wondering to even think of immortalizing the moment with a picture.

Anyway, so there she was, in the flesh. Confirmation that the rumors were true, after all. I'd heard that Pussycat Dolls frontwoman Nicole Scherzinger was supposed to act as presenter for this event, but apparently had dropped out amidst rumors of a split from her F1 driver beau, Lewis Hamilton. So Lohan was the next best thing - or maybe the only thing they could get on short notice.

Her job sounded simple enough : welcome everyone to F1 Rocks!, say something about how exciting the event was, and name the various headliners that were up next.

She spouted the fluff stuff passably enough until she got to the part where she was supposed to announce the acts. As I mentioned, ZZ Top and Simple Minds had already finished their sets when she came on, and yet she kept shrieking "And up next, we've got ZZ Top, Simple Minds, and BEYOOOONNNNCEEEEE!!!" Never mind that the finale for that night was No Doubt, and ZZ Top were probably catching a few zzzzzs themselves already.

After her third flub, the crowd started getting restless, and some of us started booing her. Yes, I said "us". My bloodthirst quickened enough for me to abandon my comfortable chaise in the VIP lounge, stumble down to the viewing balcony, and heckle La Lohan along with most of the drunken Ang Moh Gui* in the audience. When Lindsay shouted "I'm so happy to be here!", a white guy beside me yelled "But we're not!!!"
And the more she flubbed her lines, the louder the heckling got. "Get off the stage!!!" "Go home, loser!!!" "D-List twit!!!"

When, in a reference to the ongoing Formula One races, Lindsay quipped how she was ready to be an F1 driver, too, the guys groaned and I yelled "Nooooooooo!!!! For the sake of pedestrians and fine cars worldwide, noooooooooooooooo!!!!!!"

I gotta hand it to Linds, though; she certainly held our collective attention the entire time she was onstage. It truly was like watching a trainwreck: you know it's ghastly and gruesome, but you simply can't look away.

Eventually I think the production staff decided to make do with what little they already taped, and whisked Lohan off the stage before the increasingly restless crowd started mauling her. From the vantage point of the viewing balcony, overlooking the grassy pit below seething with screaming spectators, I was reminded of the ancient Romans having yet another bloody good time at the Colosseum. I entertained visions of Lohan flubbing the ancient gladiator motto: "We who are about to die, salute you!" then being crowd-surfed before being torn to pieces by the howling mob.

Spectator sports.

Now that's entertainment.

* Ang Moh is the local, common term for a white foreigner. Ang Moh Gui literally translates as Red-Haired Devils, or simply, those drunken expat boors.

Bonus: The beautiful Lindsay Lohan, aka The Ang Moh Gui :

Added Bonus Attraction : Lindsay Lohan and Beyonce Tussle For Biggest Dressing Room At F1 Rocks!

And lest you think I'm making this all up: Singapore Resoundingly Boos Lindsay Lohan

Up Next : A Date With Destiny (Or, Who Did I Run Into In Little India?)