I don’t often long for my 20s. Sure, sure…to you I might sound like a bitter aging bitch but to me, 30+ has been fun. More than fun. It’s been the best fun. Because if you’re able to exercise some moderation with sun and drugs during your 20s, you arrive at 30 still looking decent and most importantly, THINKING more than decent. Which is refreshing indeed, especially if like me, you spent the better part of the previous decade acting like complete ass.
Having said that, there are those rare occasions when 20 would be nice, when you look at the nubile 20 year old body of Lindsay Lohan, shamelessly parading around in a flesh coloured bikini, surrounded by no less than a thousand cameras, in the middle of Jeremy Piven’s birthday party, and still that cocky, unmistakable 20 year old expression is firmly planted on her face, the kind of expression only a 20 year old can wear, when the world is at your feet and your ass is still nowhere near them. Yes, gossips, the one thing I miss about 20s is my ass.
So why fault Lindsay for flaunting the fleeting superiority of her rear end? If it was me, I’d probably get that sh*t bronzed.