Mischa Barton

If you were in junior high school or high school in the 90s, I'm sure you're filing a police report against Mischa Barton for stealing your favorite shredded coochie cutters. The Blake Lively of the early 2000s gave hos several servings of thighs, ass and suffocating crotch while strolling around L.A. in some shredded shorty shorts yesterday.

I remember when we used to shred our own jeans in the 90s. My sister and I would sit on the carpet in the living room and painstakingly (yes, painstakingly, it was hard!) shred our jeans with an X-Acto knife and sandpaper. We'd try hard to make the rips look organic, because if they didn't whores would make fun of you at school. It was hard work! Chirruns don't know how hard we had it. We had to shred our own jeans! (Yes, "We had to shred our own jeans!" is my own version of "Get off my lawn!")

That said, I appreciate Mischa's gorgeous choker and shredded jeans, but if ho really wants to bring the 90s, she needs to bring it hard. This look is all wrong. She should wear black shiny Spandex shorts underneath those coochie cutters, a crushed velvet vest over that t-shirt and some flower Docs. I swear, bitches should have to watch 90210, Clarissa Explains It All and Fresh Prince before they try to dress 90s.

I know, I'm wrong for that headline, because I'd like to think that tortured creature has better taste than to get with that bitch. Be more specific as to which tortured creature I'm talking about, you say? I'm talking about the bitch who looks stoned? More specific than that? Okay, the bitch who has lipstick! Okay shit, I'm talking about the bitch who wasn't in The OC? Is that more specific?

But seriously, that "given up on life" look in that pooch's eyes tell me that he's had it and knows that the quickest way to get a one-way ticket up to the heavens is to lick his way to an overdose by slurping on Mischa Barton's cokey lips. Nothing says "goodbye, cruel world, I'm done with you" like tongue kissing Mischa Barton.

Here's a few more of Mischa and her dog friend at the opening of her clothing store in London last night. Yes, her clothing store. That Mischa Barton has a store that sells clothes. Yeah, total drug front. #laundermoneybitch

Contrary to popular belief, Mischa Barton does not spend most of her days smoking up gutter leaves in the back of a yellow Datsun parked in front of a Denny's while waiting for her agent to call to tell her that Lindsay Lohan didn't show up to some fashion event so she can fill her seat. Mischa is BUSY BUSY BUSY! Mischa tells LADYGUNN magazine that she gets turned down a lot in the projects. I mean, turns down project after project after project after project and she doesn't have time to accept a project because she's so busy turning down projects all day.

“It’s strange. Everyone keeps asking me about what I’m working on right now. But it’s quite the opposite. It’s about what projects I’m turning down, which identifies me as the actor I want to be. I’m in this funny phase in my career, where it’s super important to not do a project unless I’m super passionate about it. Because what you choose to take is how people are going to view you. It is hard, though. The way you want to go isn’t necessarily the way you get to go as an actor. This industry is run by fear. When you go too long without working, you have people hassling you. The jobs I choose to do will form who I am.”

I think the mound of bloat on my belly just developed a tiny muscle from HAHAHAHA-ing so much at this bitch turning down projects that don't allow her to be the Meryl Streep she truly is inside. Who needs to do blow job crunches (blunches?) when you can laugh your way to a half-pack thanks to the smoke ring of delusion that blows out of Mischa's mouth.

One of the projects that Mischa didn't turn down was a photo shoot with photographer Tyler Shields, the highway Super 8 version of Terry Richardson, where he slapped his meat against her face. No, this mess doesn't at all look like some shit you'd find on an illegal Japanese fetish site.

My first thought about this shoot was that the steak must represent the current state of Mischa's career. My second thought was that who ever Photoshopped this shit needs to get their priorities right. They couldn't take five seconds to brush the Crest White Strips Tool over her meth molars?! THOSE MOLARS. It looks like she brushes with ear wax. Teeth should not look like pieces of butt corn. They just shouldn't. But the good news is that if there was any E. coli on that meat, it probably burned off after staring at this bitch's zombie teefs.

Yup, still a mess. Check!

Yeah, I know Mischa Barton always looks like if a naked crackhead clothed themselves in the dead of night using children's clothes found in a Salvation Army donation bin, but damn. Mischa, whose foolery grows stronger with every click of a camera, stumbled through Nice Airport this morning with all eyes on her. The eyes weren't dazzled from being in the presence of Marissa Cooper. No, they were wondering what kind of ho would voluntarily do themselves up to look like a tweaked out Arthur the Aardvark who has fallen on hard times (and a few hard meth needles) and is now working as a third-tier Where's Waldo impersonator. They didn't see a gun pointed at Mischa's head so they were a little confused.

And now that another game of "Where's Mischa?" is over, we can continue to play a never-ending game of "Where's Mischa's Career?"

Mischa Barton took a vacation from smoking joints in the parking lot of various L.A. clubs by smoking joints on a yacht in St. Tropez. That stoned bitch (feel the jealousy touch your eyes)!

Dressed like a slutty 1970s babysitter who sunbathes on the driveway while the kids drink bleach inside, Mischa lit up a rolled cigarette filled with dead leaves (a metaphor for her career?) and ignored all the job offers blowing up her Blackberry.

When Mischa's Ziploc baggie filled with the good shit goes dry, she should roll up those Huggies Diaper Jeans on her ass and smoke that fug shit. They have to be good for something.

Here's the forever mess Mischa Barton arriving at an airport in Nice, France yesterday looking like SHIT. Well, it's all over her shirt so she's practically advertising it. Mischa is also looking a strung out lot lizard who just found a pair of fancy tap shoes in the dumpster outside of a children's dance school. Mischa brought along a new boyfriend she snatched directly out of the Hipster or Gay tumblr. Seriously, I don't know whether to ask him if he's on Grindr (SPOILER ALERT: The answer is DUH) or hand him a PBR.

Since Mischa needs a check like Mel Gibson needs a blow, she probably went down to the job placement agency and applied to be a professional Renee Zellweger. They dropped this piece in her lap and the rest is history. To be honest, I'm not entirely convinced that dude's no-no stops for peen. Any true gay friend would tell Mischa that she needs to work on her relationship with a hairbrush.

Here's more pictures of Mischa and her buttery baguette at the airport. I love the picture of them kissing. Do you think the dream bubble over dude's head has Seth or Ryan's picture in it?

Looking like she just rolled out of the gutter where she was spooning with her career, Mischa Barton and a friend visited the Hammer (more like Hammered) Museum together and later she went to an ATM to collect a "no funds available" receipt.

Okay, okay, even though Mischa looks like she out fished old weave pieces from Brit Brit's bathroom pipes and glued them to the top of her head, this isn't a complete disaster. I mean, if you Photoshop a pair of plastic glasses on her face and squint just a bit, she'll sort of resemble Garth from Wayne's World. Upgrade!

While Mischa Barton was pumping gas into her car the other day, she passed a few dollars to a friend in need who just so happened to be wearing a floral hospital gown. Hopefully, dude gave Mischa some fashion advice in exchange for that cash, because he looks hotter than she does. Don't act like that's not the truth. Wherever he was going, Mischa should've followed his ass because she needs help in more ways than one.

Oh and one last thing, why in the unleaded ass cheeks hell was some guy in a hospital gown strolling around a gas station?!

You might have already seen pictures of Mischa Barton fingering her nostril for a juicy piece of nose poo, so why not read about how she recently vomited outside of a bar in L.A. Yes, we're really getting to know Mischa LIKE THAT. It won't be long before we see pictures of a floater Mischa left in the toilet at a Del Taco. Synchronize your watches.

A source tells Page Six that Mischa strolled into Bar Marmont on Saturday looking "totally out of it." Mischa's episode of Law & Order must have been playing on the TV in the bar, because the source claims she immediately ran outside to shower the ground with barf. The source said, "A few minutes after she comes in, she runs outside and vomits everywhere. And then she went back inside and hung out for the rest of the night."

Mischa's rep didn't have to shit to say about this.

Mischa obviously needs to take a few lessons in manners at the Charleston School of Etiquette, because what kind of lady barfs outside of a bar?! Have a little respect for yourself! A true lady yacks into the bathroom sink or into an empty glass on the table. If that's not an option, just barf on the hottest piece in the place. It's the quickest way to get him half-naked. Yes, he could also return the favor by barfing on you, but that's a chance you have to be willing to take.

I swear, Mischa is like a grody ass toddler. Barfing and boogering all over the place. I pity the poor ho who has to scrub her chonies, because you know that shit looks like last week's lasagna.