I don’t even have words for the fact that James Franco – the same one who denied having any sexual relationship/encounter with Lindsay Lohan and called her mental for suggesting such a thing – wrote a short story about Lindsay that he then published on Vice’s website. WHY?
It’s written as “fiction” though in a first-person voice suggesting this could be totally true, and it’s called “Bungalow 89”. It’s awful, and in case you want to take my advice and not read the entire thing, here are a few choice selections:
There was a Hollywood girl staying at Chateau Marmont. She had gotten a key to my room from the manager. I heard her put the key into my front door and turn it, but I had slid the dead bolt and that thing—I don’t know what you call it; it’s like a chain but made of two bars—that kept the door from opening.
She said, “James, open the door.”
Across the room was a picture of a boy dressed as a sailor with a red sailor cap, and except for his blondish hair (closer to my brother’s color) he looked like me.
She said, “Open the door, you bookworm punk blogger faggot.”
and
My phone rang. She let it ring until I answered.
“You’re not going to let me sleep, are you?”
“Do you think this is me? Lindsay Lohan. Say it. Say it, like you have ownership. It’s not my name anymore.”
“Lindsay Lo-han.”
“I just want to sleep on your couch. I’m lonely.”
“We’re not going to have sex. If you want to come in, I’ll read you a story.”
“A bedtime story?”
“It’s called ‘A Perfect Day for Bananafish.’”
Do you think I’ve created this? This dragon girl, lion girl, Hollywood hellion, terror of Sunset Boulevard, minor in the clubs, Chateau Demon? Do you think this is me?
I mean, I can’t even go on from there, because it’s just so, so bad. What a crock of shit. This whole thing will probably send Lindsay into another downward spiral, of course, as well. Egads.