Mrawr! If you’re like us and love a good catfight but have inexplicably been banned from the local women’s prison, don’t despair. This last year has been a festival of womanly throw-downs. While much of the girl-on-girl drama is no doubt fueled by jealousy, insecurity, shame, self-loathing, and green appletinis, it’s probably fair to say that some of these ladies are just straight-up sober, pissed-off bee-atches. Ladies, to your corners. At the sound of the bell, let the hair pulling, eye gouging, and toe stomping begin.

JANUARY 11, 2006
It may seem a little unfair to chronicle Lohan’s missteps, intoxicated ramblings, and desperate love life so relentlessly, especially when her dad is in jail and she’s got the Paris Posse on her ass, but Lindsay, you leave us no choice. Sweetheart, next time you scrawl the C-word in a bathroom stall and use it to describe media-darling Scarlett Johansson, you might want to use your own Sharpie rather than borrowing one from a gal who knows how to use a digital camera and post the results on the Web for all to see. Lucky for Lohan, Scarlett was too busy pretending Woody Allen loves her for her talent.

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