Oh, Lindsay, Lindsay. I know as a mom I'm supposed to have a nice store of down-home wisdom for you, I'm supposed to lament the influence you have on our growing girls. But hon--this is a mom letter, so I have to call you hon, right?--I just have one little resolution for you for the new year. See, I know you've been all coked out and drunk-bunny, and frankly, lots of us did crazy, unwise, wretched things in our youth. While you have the great fortune to have money and all that, you also have the misfortune to be very much in the public eye. But because I think unlike your hard-partying waste-of-skin contemporaries like Paris, you actually have some (acting, not musical) talent going for you, I'd like you to do just one thing differently for 2008.  

Stop sleeping with these guys who run to the press and yippity yap about what it was like to screw you. Did your mom not tell you this? It's right up there with hand washing and closing the fridge door and tilting your head down for photos to avoid the double chin look. I'm tired of reading about your sexploits, it makes me feel bad for you, and guys who will do that are not worth the spit you waste on a good night smooch.

Look, maybe your dad is a dick, and what with the substances, you probably aren't making the wisest choices. But could you just pause for one little moment before you stumble into some loser's apartment and ask yourself this question: "Do I think this guy will tell the media what we are about to do?" If the answer is even maybe, walk out. Call me an idealistic dreamer, but I believe even a wealthy, messed up, celebrity trainwreck can find one guy who won't barf his Lindsay-sex story to the tabloids. So could you just work on that? Because we've all slept with dawgs in our youth, and when you look back as an older, wiser Lindsay, believe me, you won't want some of those chump-holes memorialized in People. 

And get some sleep, darling, cuz you look exhausted.