Today we have a new clip from "The Canyons," showing Lindsay Lohan looking for her phone that results in a beating from her co-star James Deen (Batman XXX: A Porn Parody). NY Times previously reported that during one of the scenes, Deen pushes Lohan to the floor so hard that the crew thought she was injured. But the actress just got up and said, "I've got a lot of experience with that from my dad." This must be the scene the newspaper was talking about. Check it out below.
"The Canyons" follows sex and crime among a group of twentysomethings in Los Angeles. Deen is playing a manipulative trust-fund kid with dreams of making a movie. Lohan will play his girlfriend, addicted to a materialist lifestyle.
The new movie is written by "American Psycho" author Bret Easton Ellis and directed by Paul Schrader (Auto Focus). It was recently rejected by the Sundance Film Festival.
Lohan plays a girl addicted to a materialist lifestyle.
Wow... that's a stretch for her.
c*m clean Lovag. When your dad pushed you down that was your Friday night foreplay before he f*cked your lights out (meanwhile her sister and mother lay in other corners of the trailer, twats bleeding from Michael's rage of lust and incest).
Once upon a time, I was at The Empire with my friend Derrick, my quasi-friend Chris, and someone named Pete; I never did learn exactly who Pete was, as Chris refuses to relate the specific details, but allegedly, he was a quasi-friend of Chris's ex-girlfriend. But that's another story.
As usual, Chris was being extremel annoying and Pete was busy searching for one of his friends. Derrick disappeared somewhere within the club, meeting up with one of his high school friends, and I didn't see him for a few days afterwards. Anyhoo, I don't really have much interest in nightclubs, so I decided to stand at the bar and fidget for awhile, sipping a White Cuban and talking with some stranger about The Dark Knight Rises.
After abandoning my endeavor to visit the men's room (The line was too long, which, for some reason, is always the case at nightclubs), I noticed a large man, dressed entirely in black, talking with a brunette. Having been out of Los Angeles for awhile, I entertained a notion the man might be a bodyguard protecting some spoiled actress. To my great suprise, he was! He was talking to none other than Lindsay Lohan herself!
I said "Excuse me" in my best effeminate voice, hoping to present my gay half, as such is usually advisable when dealing with someone of "status." I asked if she was Lindsay Lohan and she responded by asking why I would ask something like that. I was immediately turned off, as this of haughty behavior reminds me too much of, well, spoiled bitches. However, I was willing to bite my tongue if it meant I could later tell the story of having talked to Lindsay Lohan. To make a long story short, I succeeded in playing the sycophant and learned that, yes, this was, in fact, Lindsay.
She asked what I was doing and I said I'd been abandoned by my not-so-fantastic friends. She said something similar had happened, though I never learned precisely what had taken place. She asked if I had a cigarette and we walked outside. She was wearing this ridiculous beret, which scarcely fit on top of her wig. For some reason, I asked why she was wearing it, and she said she was trying to conceal her identity. We talked for a little while; much of what she said was pretty incoherent, although I gather she was attempting to discuss the challenge of "being myself" (Whatever that is) whilst in public. I nodded and asked the appropriate questions: "So, what are you really like? What are you into? Who do you want to be?"
She snuck away from her bodyguard and followed me to the hotel. While inside, I provided her some cocaine (Fortunately, Derrick had trusted me with his supply, though I suspect he'd saved the Adderall for whatever girl he met) and, once she was pretty well stoned, I decided to bluntly ask if she wished to have sex. She asked why I deserved to have sex with "the Lindsay Lohan," and I said I had no real reason, save my desire to be able to tell people I had sex with Lindsay Lohan. She asked to "see it" (I don't know what the admins consider obscene), and although it isn't exactly the greatest, she decided to go with it, provided I promised no one would bother us and provided I did not have a camera running.
I was a little wary, considering the rumors concerning her not-so-private life, but she appeared to be reasonably clean. She was very strange, reacting at the wrong time (Apparently, not doing a very good job at feigning her pleasure) and at one point, I suspected she was about to pass out. We were only at it for, at most, thirty minutes, although I believe at least one-third of that may have been comprised by her attempts at shuffling positions.
Anyway, she called up someone and left the room shortly thereafter. She asked if she could have another cigarette and I complied. When she asked if she could have some more coke, I lied and said I had none left. She said she would talk to me soon, although I never gave her my number or anything.