Drew Barrymore all over again… don’t you think? Once again, Lilo was taken to hospital, the 5th or 6th time in less than a year, this time for a “fractured” wrist, something about slipping and falling at a Milk Studios party, something about a lawsuit because the establishment didn’t do enough to make the ground safe, although curiously enough, no one else ended up in the ER but then again, who else lives la vida drama like Lilo and her Harry beau? And who else but a child of Dina Lohan would end up so f&cked up? As reported in Page Six https://www.nypost.com/gossip/pagesix/pagesix_u.htm, mother and daughter had a huge fight in the middle of a restaurant last week that culminated with Lindsay telling a drunk and possibly coked-out Dina to “go to hell” before storming off to attend a fashion show, leaving mommy in tears and in the arms of the abused restaurant staff, who were not tipped even though they had to carry her out just before closing. Those Lohans are some classy bitches, non? And that Dina Lohan is the greatest mother, like, ever… yes? Free will? Independent choices? Absolutely. Lindsay Lohan is 20, she’s certainly capable of directing her own path, she’s certainly accountable for living a life she can be proud of from here on in. But seriously gossips…what are the chances? What are the chances of learning from mistakes when the person who is supposed to save you from them can’t save herself? Now I’m not saying mine is the model mother. I won’t lie to you and tell you that she’s always ready with kind words or even words at all, especially when I have the audacity to ring her during a mahjong session…or worse yet, her latest obsession – slot machines at Casino Rama. I happened to call last week while she was on a winning streak and got an earful of Chinese cussing that would have scared away a triad, and still…despite the fact that she’s an unaffectionate bitch, despite the fact that she is not your milk and cookies June Cleaver with a Cantonese accent, my mother still found time to sneak into my hotel room in Toronto every night during the film festival to leave me a few pieces of fruit and a thermos-full of Chinese soup… to bolster my immune system after so many party-full, sleep-free nights. And if my mother, the gambling Chicken, is capable of this kind of love, Dina Lohan *should* be capable of a proper kind of love, the kind of love that can rescue a child, a girl only 20 who is spiralling towards Dana Plato. But a hundred dollars says Dina Lohan can’t see past her own bitch to care… any takers??