"Cat shit in my eye? Just my luck!"

On the surface, "Just My Luck" is the story of a girl temporarily down on her luck. But when Cyber Agatha and I took a closer (and, incidentally, drunken) look at the film this weekend, we discovered a story much greater than the sum of its stunningly miscast parts.

Lindsay Lohan stars as Ashley, a manic, unlikeable p.r. coordinator with a flourishing dependency on instant-win scratch-off tickets, crystal meth, and dumb luck. When she's arrested at her own promotional event for expensing a male prostitute on her Capital One card, Ashley decides then and there (in jail) to nip her substance abuse problem in the bud. Ironically, a meth lab explosion floods Ashley's apartment, and so she is left with no choice but to move in with her two sponsors from A.A.

Things go from bad to worse when Ashley drops her contact in the well-used cat litter box, and then proceeds to recover the lens and place it immediately in her eye. She develops pink eye and must wear a pirate's eye patch for the duration of the movie. As the withdrawal symptoms escalate and she grows weary of begging strangers for scraps of bacon at the local diner, Ashley attempts to end her life by diving into a pile of shit, sticking her fingers into a lightbulb socket, and drawing a bath onto a plugged-in hair dryer. Nothing works - that is, until she falls in love. With a nine-year-old girl.

This really is an amazing movie, and it shows Lindsay's true devotion to method acting. (She looks hung over in every shot. Take that, Meryl!) Her character finds true love at the end, but not without her friend first inconsiderately dying of a stroke in the middle of McFly's debut performance at the Hard Rock Cafe. Her last words: "Is that the sound of the audience clapping, or is my central nervous system shutting down?" Unfortunately, a little from Column A, a little from Column B.