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The Lindsay Lohan Damage Control Party Machine lurched to life in the pages of the LAT this weekend, in the form of a long profile that desperately tries to counteract the bad publicity that doggedly follows the one-woman "pop culture brand" like a dirty old man clutching a bottle of Cristal and an eightball. Lohan seems very well-coached by her publicists, as she nails all the "I swear I'm not so out of control that you shouldn't trust your $50 million movie to me" talking points: I want to do more adult roles...I've cut down on the partying...I'm a professional...if I look tired all the time, it's because I work TOO hard...I'm just a regular girl!:

But as she negotiates the perilous on-screen chasm between teen ingénue and leading lady, she's also trying to make an equally tough real-life transition from girl to woman — all in the harsh glare of 24-hours-a-day entertainment news. Young celebrities, particularly female ones, are fodder for such fare as Star and Us Weekly. In the case of Lohan, the tabloids have seemed particularly fascinated by the prospect of a wholesome Disney protégé who suddenly sprouted breasts and unexpectedly turned into a bombshell.[...]

"I know work is work," she adds, like a teenager who's been chastened. "This is business." [...]

"I always want to be perceived as normal and wholesome, because it's relatable," she says. "I hope people think I'm wholesome. It's hard after what you read in the magazines, that I'm dating every guy who's like my father's age. But that's not me."

Oops! Looks like she's been coached too well by her flacks and agents, who've apparently drummed the studio buzzword "relatable" into her head so thoroughly that's it's slipping out in interviews ("Honey, your 12-16 year-old fan base can't relate to sucking a flaming shot of Bacardi out of Fez's navel. Wholesomeandnormal." ). We wonder if the interviewer noticed the squealing feedback emanating from her ear as someone back in her publicity HQ furiously pounded a control panel in hopes she'd translate the flackspeak into her own words. To the untrained eye, the resulting spasm probably just looked like a run-of-the-mill Red Bull tremor.