Where are the Kirsten Dunsts?

It’s time for Hollywood to take out the trash.

You know what I’m talking about– Lindsay, Paris, Britney, Nicole, Nicole’s unborn baby, Nicole’s ugly boyfriend, and dare I say…Christina Aguilera. Always rubbed me the wrong way, that one.

H-town is seeming more and more like a ghost town these days with its little coke-infused starlets escaping the summer grit of the city for rehab.

Rehab: it’s the new Hamptons!

But, who is there to look to now? Who will inform us, mere plebes, of fashion trends we cannot afford and only imitate feebly by shopping at Forever 21? Who will entertain us while we slave away at our precariously filing – centric summertime internships? Have we no heroes anymore? No inspiration?

I try to think of understudies for Lilo & Co, but the best I can do is a list of the boring and banal: Anne Hathaway, Natalie Portman, Jessica Biel, Scarlett Johansson. Ugh. Stars– they really are just like us. Meaning? Boring.

All they do is work. I mean, come on. Scarlett’s just so healthy! She must eat, or something. Snooze.

The best replacement I can think of is the old hold steady Kirsten Dunst.

Sometimes she looks good. Sometimes she looks bad. Obviously, she drinks. When she does coke, you know, she’s adult about it and doesn’t say she’s “holding it for a friend” or do it off of Joe Francis’s ass. Somehow, through it all, she avoids being tragic and cunning and remains as slightly loopy, funny, and likeable.

Hollywood should definitely start making more of her now that LiLo’s being served a contract with the clink.

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