Few joys on God’s earth compare to the delight of seeing a woman naked for the first third any time. When a lady chooses to reveal herself to a man, she gives him a sensual gift that says, “I am doing this for the money.”

How terribly cynical, then, to learn that Lindsay Lohan‘s Playboy spread, which hit stand recently, was intended not to sate the internet’s obsession with redheads, but to help cover the legal costs of what I can’t be bothered to look up, but confidently assume is something to do with drunk driving. Or maybe just to make a million bucks. Again: I don’t have time to check every little central topic of these articles.

The fact is, rather than lift up the flapping sails of a publication that has long since ceased to try, Ms. Lohan could have enlivened several magazines with a co-operative purchase of her posturing skills, and most of them wouldn’t have even required nudity, which is always more fun when it’s a gratuity and a surprise and in church. Here are some of those magazines.

Obviously Miss Lohan’s nuditude has drawn big sales figures, but in Playboy, that’s easy to come by. For maximum effect, you need to drop a sneak attack sex bomb where it will make the biggest explosion. You also want to do more family-friendly fare to keep those Disney dollars rolling in. The fact is, there are two million cat magazines in print today, and every one of them has the title of a low-class skin mag. So this is a good place to transition from one audience to another.

The catskin rug really brings the poesy to this piece.

But what about clearing up your image? Well, that’s where CGI comes in. Whereas you or I would be off the road for several years, the courts are counting on Herbie the Lovebug to help her navigate L.A.’s sober streets. The law believes Lohan is still more responsible than Disney, who spent $1m de-jiggling her chest for Herbie: Fully Loaded, which–because– what? No way. That’s the most evil use of a million bucks imaginable. Not even Stalin did that.

Now it’s time to make this member of the privileged elite relatable, and that means a secret shame. Since her substance abuse is no secret at all, and usually only surfaces when she’s been endangering fellow drivers, we’re going to have to dig deep. Like…really, really deep. All the way to the kidneys.

If you have no sympathy for someone with wet pants, one of you must be Hitler.

Sex sells, so you don’t want to abandon it. With this stockpile of sympathy, fuzzy kitties, and what’s earnestly referred to as a sport by what seriously calls itself “Real America,” Lohan is re-established. Now it’s time to dive back into the deep end of the public pool called sex.  No more Marilyn pastiches and “Hottest Girls of Rehab” galleries for you, young lady! From now on you’re going to carve out a classy, brassy, sassy style of seduction popular among the gentry. Playboy is the oldest and most commercially respectable jizz-rag on the market, save for one 18th century publication. If you’re going to nudify yourself for the intellectual types, better to go whole hog and join The Hellfire Club.

Yeaaahh! We worked poesy into this article twice! Pay up, Dundics!

At the inevitable completion of the cycle lies the photo that has already cost taxpayers a hefty sum in police work, prosecution, and penitential punishment. You already paid for this, California, you might as well own a copy.

Nobody seems very concerned that that poor woman has a serious problem with addiction.

Brendan McGinley only drinks to deal with the stress of driving.