Here’s porn star James Deen and future porn star Lindsay Lohan leaving a Fourth of July party in Santa Monica last night, and no, he didn’t drive her to Chateau Marmont where he bravely entered her crotch cavern of destruction with a crucifix in one hand and a vat of liquefied Valtrex in the other. That’s what James Deen claims anyway. During an interview with Animal NY, James said that he’s keeping shit strictly professional with HoHan and he’s simply just getting to know her before they shoot that low-budget, soft-core Bret Easton Ellis mess The Canyons. The Health Department doesn’t have to stick a Notice of Closure on James’ crotch for violating health code 5473 (aka doing Lindsay Lohan), because even though he’s dicked hundreds of tricks, LiLo isn’t one of them.
“I can definitely honestly say Lindsay Lohan and I are not having sex!”
Wouldn’t he tell me? “I think I would tell everybody.”
“I don’t know anything about her except for that she’s a really nice, down-to-earth, normal twenty-five-year-old girl. We went to a business dinner and she was very professional. She drank coffee and water. Then she had to call for a car because she couldn’t walk ten feet from the door because of the paparazzi.” Deen seems a little riled up, protective.
Translation: “EVEN I HAVE STANDARDS!”
You know, I totally believe James. James has an illustrious career in fuck films and why would he mess that up by dipping into LiLo’s Mordor cooch for a second or two? Does James really want the CDC to wrap a quarantine tent around him and keep him away from society until his tainted peen finally falls off? And if that didn’t happen, James’ 9-inch peen, which weighs more than him, would swear off all genitals and drag it him to the nearest monastery where it’d keep him up at night by muttering about freckled blue waffles.
And on a positive note, I give LiLo extra points for her A+ Mommie Dearest eyebrow game.