Britney Spears

What? Like y'all ain't seen a girl having a nervous breakdown shave her head before?

[Photo via Oh No They Didn't!]

I look like an alien, y'all! An alien from planet SPEARS. Or maybe like a....no, like an alien. A sexy, sexy alien.  And everyone can just SHUT UP about how I'm supposed to be on drugs and how I was only in rehab for ten minutes -- I WAS JUST DROPPING OFF A PACKAGE TO THOSE REHAB PLACES, because I am, um....I'm totally working for REHAB MEALS ON WHEELS. It's a CHARITY! -- and how I'm totally losing my custody battle (whatever that even is) and blah blah blah blah. Aren't you happy that I'm not all showing you if the rugs match the curtains anymore? (PS: NOW THEY DO. HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA. I'm tired.)

I just wish people would stop paying so much attention to me! Can't a girl get some PRIVACY? I'm just quietly trying to live my life, y'all. I don't know why I have to be FOLLOWED everywhere! It's not like I want all of everyone's attention all the time. Would you say that I'm acting like I want people to look at me? Because I would not.

God, my bald head RULES. I am going to save so much money on extensions and hair dye and shampoo and conditioner and hair spray and more extensions and now I can fire that hairdresser my mother hired after I went on Matt Lauer so I "didn't look like a feral cat."  Whatever, MOTHER, I think feral cats are pretty -- they have blue eyes! -- but now you don't even have to WORRY ABOUT IT. Because lookit, everyone: NO HAIR AT ALL! So SUCK ON it, magazine who said my hair might fall out from over-dying: I'ma STARTING OVER. Like that TV show. Is that still even on? I liked that show. I should go ON THAT SHOW. YES. That is a great idea. I'm going to call my agent right now. I wonder who my agent is.

Okay. Stuff to do. So much to do. So much stuff for me to do. I have to go buff my head and then call my agent about Starting Over and then I need to place ten to twelve heavy breathing calls to Justin and then I need to call J.C Chasez and ask if I can open for him when he goes on tour, just like the old days, and then if he says yes, I need to write some songs real fast and then I need to go buy some beer and then I need to moisturize my tattoo and then I have some other stuff to do that I can't remember and then I need check to in and make sure my little girls are still alive and then I need -- oh, wait, they're totally boys, my bad -- and then I need to go get a sandwich. GOD. I better get on it.

Okay, talk to you later, guys! Bye! Bye! Bye! Why am I so amped right now? Maybe I need to sit down. No. I don't.  Okay! Bye!

LOVE,
BRITNEY.

PS: OR BALD-NEY! HA. I just thought of that. Maybe I should start doing some STAND-UP! HOW AWESOME WOULD THAT BE? Okay. Bye for real.

Hi y'all,

I know it's been a while, but listen -- I've been real busy with things. And I know a lot of y'all think I've been acting real trashy since Kevin and I split up, but listen, it was a ROUGH TWO YEARS THERE. Sometimes a girl just need to take her vagina out for some air, and that's all I was doing, so maybe you shouldn't judge me so much because if you'd been married to Kevin Federline for however long we were married, you would go on a binge later too. Anyway, I had this whole thing planned out where I explained WHY I stopped wearing panties for a little while and WHY I was pole-dancing with Paris Hilton and stuff, but then I found this, and I need to take care of it, first:

LISTEN PARIS: YOU STAY AWAY FROM MY MAN. I mean it. YOU STAY AWAY. OR I WILL TOTALLY CUT YOU. Everyone thinks I'm so dumb, but these are things I know:

a) Justin is single again

2) You and I are friends all of a sudden

3) you totally love to hook up with your friends's ex-boyfriends. Like you took Stabby Nachos, if that is in fact his real name, from the little tiny Olsen. And then you did the same thing to like four other girls and their boyfriends that I can't remember anymore.

d) ERGO: You are TOTALLY going to try to hook up with JUSTIN NOW. DON'T DENY IT. I KNOW YOU ARE. I KNOW IT. AND THAT IS BULLSHIT. IF ANYONE IS GETTING BACK TOGETHER -- OR TOGETHER...OR WHATEVER -- WITH JUSTIN, IT IS ME. ME! ME ME ME ME ME.

So I mean it. Stay away. Get away. Get far away. Because that skinny little Olsen girl is too little to screw with you, but I am NOT. I have still got some baby weight and I will use all of it to RIP OUT YOUR SKANK EXTENSIONS. You MIGHT be able to talk me into pole-dancing naked in your rec room or whatever, but I am NOT going to let you get away with THIS. I have been PLANTING THE SEEDS OF REUNION (I heard that on a commercial for Days once) for like FOUR YEARS and you are not going to UNDO IT ALL. You might have a deal with the DEVIL -- oh, I said it. I think you're THE BRIDE OF SATAN and I really mean that like FOR REAL, not metaphorifically , I think you ACTUALLY WENT INTO HELL and took Satan's hand and pledged to serve him for ALL ETERNITY and wore a veil and everything -- but I sang "Oops, I Did It Again," and I'm just as rich as you are and if I have to fight THE DEVIL to get Justin back, I WILL.

FROM:

Britney

PS: I really mean it.

Dear Diary,

So, I totally have a new friend to tell you about today! It didn't really work out with Nicole when she was blonde (and between you and me, Diary, she is even less fun with the brown hair -- I mean, what's the point of having dark hair if you aren't hiding weed underneath it?), and, like, oh my GOD, dude, Kimberly Stewart was really NEEDY. She called me ten times a day until I made her cry that last time, and I SWEAR I caught her rooting through my bathroom trashcan, picking out my old extensions and taping them to a hair clip. Which, EW -- it looked EXACTLY like a hair clip from a drugstore, and not the FUN kind of drugstore, so GROSS.

Anyway, so I found this new blonde person now and I think it's going to work out because even though she kind of already worships me, she attracts WAY better photographers than Kimberly did. And, she's going through a totally rough time right now because she's getting a divorce, so she wants to party and dress up and stuff and get really dirty and freaky, which is my FAVORITE THING EVER to do. Like, this one time, I put on my favorite red party dress of that week, and she got out this old thing she used to wear when she and her husband played that weird Ice Dancing game where they were at the porn Olympics, and we decided to go out and party. And it was, like, TOTAL sisterhood, you know? And it was SO SWEET because we were really cold, and she remembered that her ex-husband had a bunch of old pieces of panty-hose in his drawer from the olden days when he would stick his head in them and then throw over a 7-11 (she used that word -- "throw over" -- I don't really know what that word means but it is so Law & Order I can't even STAND IT and I think I'm so good now at saying the word that I should probably order up a part on one of the episodes, right? Do you think they deliver?). But anyway, so we had these pieces of panty-hose but there were only two, so we each wore one -- me on my right leg, and her on her left leg, which I swore was her right leg, but she kept telling me it was her left and that she would know what her own left leg looks like since she was BORN with it, DUH, and you know what? I don't know what her left leg looks like, and maybe it looks like it's on the right -- there ARE people who are born that way, I'm pretty sure, and if she's one of them, then maybe we should start some sort of charitable manicure program that benefits the Righty Left Children or whatever. It's a good idea.

Anyway, it was soooo fun -- she's like the sister I never had! Sometimes we sit up all night and drink vodka from baby bottles and talk about boys and divorces and our music careers -- apparently, she had some albums and shit, but I don't REMEMBER Pamela Anderson having a record or anything, do you? But she got all mad and screamed that she did too have more hit songs than I did, and she didn't seem to like it when I called her out and said I'd never heard of any of her songs and that she would need to PROVE it. In fact, she ALSO didn't really like it that much when I called her Pamela, but dude, I KNOW Pamela Anderson when I see her -- like, those things are KIND OF hard to MISS, you know? They're bigger than Nicky's head! So anyway I told Pamela to shut up and finish her Zima and she kind of got upset again but then once she was done chugging it and then shotgunning her Bud Light (she said her mom calls it a Trailer Martini -- how kicky and retro! Also, does Pamela Anderson HAVE a mom? Wicked!) and then everything was fine again.

Can't wait to see sister Pammy tomorrow! We're gonna get tattoos that say P&P Music Factory (even if she IS lying about having all those albums) and it's going to RULE. I talked her into it after the third bottle of Jagermeister. She said it would be even better because Kevin would hate it ("Kevin" is how you say "Kid Rock" in Michigan speak -- they are so funny up there!). Whee! Paris and Pammy!

Sloppy kisses,

P

Dear EVERYONE,

I TOLD Y'ALL I WAS GONNA DO IT.

To Kevin: HA HA. I was just waiting until I started to get hot again to file the papers. Check out my cute, post-baby body. HOW DO YOU LIKE THIS? Yeah! That's what I'm TALKING ABOUT. It's a CLASSY dress on a HOT BODY and I still have LIKE A LOT MORE DOLLARS THAN YOU DO.  So you can SUCK IT. When I told you the other night that I was bringing sexy back, I was NOT kidding, even if you did laugh.  Who's laughing now?! (I am.)

I hope you enjoy the case of Pabst I gave you to celebrate your stupid  "album" dropping, because that is the LAST THING you are going to get from me EVER. I hope your cornrows all fall out and you trip on your manpris and you break your face and you crash your car.

To Cameron Diaz: Watch yourself.

To the rest of world:  YOU'RE WELCOME.

LOVE, BRITNEY!

MAH BITCHES!

What is UP? Hey HEY! Yeah,  I'm just standing here, doing The Sprinkler in front of Westfield Shopping Town. TESTIFY!

So, yeah, we haven't talked lately and you know, Britney is always saying I'm like a bad communicator and shit but the truth is, yo, I have got my HANDS FULL. First of all, my acting career is off the HOOK.  Check it out: I'm on CSI this week and listen, I fucking rock the house on that show. I'm pretty sure they're going to ask me to have my own CSI. CSI: YOUR ASS. And I'll go all over America investigating HOT ASSES. Yeah, that's what I'm talking about. Holla!

But seriously, I'm pretty sure I'm gonna get my own show now, and then who'll be the breadwinner, baby? That's right: yo soy la breadwinner, bitches. And that'll be the end of  "No, you can't buy a Slurpee machine," and "Who's the person in this relationship who HAS a Grammy?" and "please hold the baby."

So yeah, I've got this whole acting thing happening and I also am doing a lot of shopping, obviously, and I'm been really busy not tying my shoes and buying pants that make me look really stumpy, because MAN does that piss B off, and she's really funny when she's pissed off, because then she starts yelling and sometimes her gum falls on the floor.  Let's see, what else have I been up to? I feel like there's something else. DAMN.  My short term memory is for shit now, dude.

Damn, I am just fooling wit' you. I remember what else is going on in my life: MY CD. Yeah, I know everyone thought my single sucked monkey balls (to quote my wife, like, THANKS FOR BEING SO SUPPORTIVE. Damn. You sang a song about your damn diary once. Jesus.), but that's because it's a concept album, dogs. You just haven't heard THE WHOLE THING. It makes that Timberlake punk look like Lance Bass. YEAH, I SAID IT. TIMBERLAKE'S A GAY! Heh.  I said that to Britney once and she punched me in the ear. She so easy.

Oh, yeah, and we had another baby.  I ALMOST talked B into naming him Sean P2, but she ain't that simple.  I also wanted to name him Snoop D -- like, Sean P is after P Diddy, so why not give some love to the D O Double G? And she said no.

She's so boring, dudes. My next wife is going to be Paris Hilton. You know she would totally let me smoke out at home.

And now she's yelling at me again.  Something about me emptying our 401k? No way she could have found out about that shit already. I better go on damage control. Which means, turn up the Vandross...it's time for Baby Number Three.

PEACE OUT, BITCHES

Federleazy

Dear Justin,

I just heard a rumor that you finally broke up with that scrawy cracked-out ho and I just wanted to tell you that everything I told Matt Lauer about how my marriage is awesome and stuff is a total lie.  Call me! 

I made a picture of what it would be like if we got back together! Look:

Seriously, don't we look happy together? It will totally be just like this, too!

So call me! Or you can email me! It's the same email I always had. Or you can IM me if you want! IM is good! I'm still SweetCheetoKisses on AIM! Or just come by the house! Come by whenever you want! My mom will TOTALLY let you in.

Okay! I'm really excited! This is going to be great!

Bye!

Love!

Britney

PS: Seriously, don't we look happy together? I can't wait!

PPS: Wear that hat!

Hi, y'all.

Sigh.  It's been a while since we talked, I guess. I just haven't felt like writing much lately. (Kevin is reading this over my shoulder and he just went, "or showering." I hate him. ARE YOU READING THIS STILL, KEVIN? I SAID I HATE YOU.  I REALLY MEAN IT.

Okay. He went into the other room. I bet you ten dollars to do drugs, even though I told him that was NOT ALLOWED ANYMORE. I didn't even know he could read. Or make jokes. Although I don't think that one was funny AND the reason I don't get to shower very often is because every time I leave the room my baby falls on his head and then the police come and HOW DID I GET IN SUCH A MESS?)

So I don't have very much time to talk to you because Jamie Lynn is only watching Sean Preston until she has to leave for some party at Cameron Diaz's house. She promised me she would slip Justin the security code to the main house here in Malibu just in case he wants to come over and see me or kill Kevin in a jealous rage even though I do not advocate murder but I think she is just humoring me because she also didn't say anything mean when I left the house with my thong and my bra hanging out the back of my top and if that wasn't a cry for help like Dr. Phil talks about I don't know what is.

Anyway. I'm having another baby. Even though I keep screwing up with this one and no one will help me figure out what I am supposed to be doing. I am NOT EVEN 24 YEARS OLD, Y'ALL. I need some HELP. I need some ADVICE. All everyone is doing is making fun of me for not knowing how to install a car seat, like have you ever tried to read the instructions for one of those things? I think they write them in some foreign language and then translate them back to American. And I am pretty sure that everyone drops a baby now and then -- SERIOUSLY -- because babies are squirmy and you know what? I wasn't even the one who DROPPED him, that was SOMEONE ELSE.  And I fired her and I don't know what else I am supposed to be doing and no one will help me with any of it and now I'm having another one and I am sure I will love it but I ONLY HAVE TWO ARMS.

And just between you and me, I was totally going to divorce him and then I found out I was all knocked up again, like HOW MAGIC IS HIS SPERMY STUFF? It's like RADIOACTIVATED or something.

But you should know that I am thinking about...things.

Because there are people who have babies with no husband, right? Like Meg Ryan has that cute Chinese baby now. And Angelina Jolie! She had TWO babies with no husband. And so does Sharon Stone and I am pretty sure that I am way smarter than Sharon Stone.  So I am not saying that I am going to DO ANYTHING like that, AT ALL, but I am saying that I am aware that OTHER PEOPLE do things like that ALL THE TIME. If you KNOW what I MEAN.

Do you know what I mean? I mean I am going to be saying POPOZAO to that freeloader before you know it and BOY IS HE GOING TO BE SORRY.

Okay, hi, y'all.

So, I'm finally out and about again, all right? I got sick of moping around the house, just wiping down the kitchen counters over and over and over again. I mean, there's only so many times you can clean up after your husband before you just want to rip the hairs right out of his head and the only thing that was keeping me from snatching that filthy man bald was watching my bootleg tape of Justin's dailies from that movie he's making where he has all the tattoos and I really didn't want my mama to catch me doing that again and also the tape is wearing out, so I thought I'd take a shower finally and go out to lunch:

I don't want to brag or anything, but I cleaned up better than you thought I would, didn't I? I know I did. See, I've been doing these Windsor Pilates tapes at night when I can't sleep while I'm waiting for Kevin to come back from the 24-hour recording studio ( I don't want to talk about his CD, so don't ask, because if I tried to say anything about the CD I might start laughing and then I would never stop and then I would probably start throwing up and I hate barfing). And I got my extensions taken out because Jamie Lynn said they looked cheap and you know I never used to think she knew what she was talking about, but then she got a 97 on her driver's test and now I think she might be kinda smart. So I look decent, right?

So that's all good and stuff, but the real reason that I'm writing this Letter of Truth is because I have to say something about this crazy statue of me:

I guess it's of me having Sean Preston and it's supposed to be pro-life or something, but OH MY GOD Y'ALL I HAVE NEVER BEEN SO EMBARRASSED ABOUT ANYTHING IN MY ALL LIFE. Stop looking at it, please, y'all. Seriously, please stop looking at it. Oh my God.

Okay.

Okay, first of all -- oh my God, I'm seriously so embarrased -- first of all, I don't know what's going on with that lion's head rug thingie, because for one thing, there weren't any rugs in the room where I had the baby and for another thing, if Cedars Sinai even HAD rugs, I really don't think they would be rugs with heads because don't you think that would scare the baby?

Are you still looking at that picture of that statue? Please stop looking at it. Oh my God, I can't believe this thing even exists in America. Shouldn't it be illegal to make a statue of some lady you don't know? I feel like it should be, especially if she is ALL NAKED IN IT, oh my God. Anyway, it's also totally, like, wrong because I had a Caesarean section with Sean (and could someone please explain to me what that has to do with the salad? Because who would name a salad after an operation? It's so weird.  But everything I ask my mother she just starts laughing and then she sighs real big and lights another cigarette). So, anyway, in addition to being GROSS and like a total VIOLATION of my CIVIL RIGHTS as an AMERICAN, it's also totally inaccurate, or whatever.

AND OH MY GOD I JUST HAD A TERRIBLE THOUGHT. WHAT IF JUSTIN SAW IT? Oh. Oh. OH GOD. God, I am so embarrassed, y'all. I really want to die. I just want to die. What is WRONG with PEOPLE? Who MAKES A STATUE OF SOMEONE ELSE HAVING THEIR BABY ON A CREEPY BEARSKIN RUG? I don't care if it's just a joke. It's disgusting and I am disgusted and also totally grossed out and if you look at that picture again I am removing your name from the Britney fan club mailing list and I will NOT put it back on. EVER.  EVER!

Okay. Okay. I'm going to lunch and I'm going to try really really hard not to slap or divorce Kevin today because you're supposed to stay together for the children even though I am pretty sure that's not going to work out either and I also am just waiting for my lawyer to call me back, and when she does, I am also going to see if I can sue that person who did that sculpture for like degradation of culture, or something, but listen, I MEAN IT about taking you off the mailing list if you keep looking at that statue. I WILL find out you looked at it and I WILL take you off the list and I will NOT unban you, EVER because you are DISGUSTING.

Okay. So, bye

Britney

Oh. My. God. Y'all.

I just realized I meant to wear pants with this dress! Can you tell? Do I look crazy? I don't look too crazy, do I? When I left the house this morning my mother said something about a lampshade in a whorehouse or some such but all she does is mutter about stuff all day long anyway so I didn't know if she was talking about me or about an actual lampshade she wanted to buy from a whorehouse but the point is that I am a little worried about sitting down because this skirt is really short.

But ANYWAY, it's awfully nice to get out of that house because I swear to God all I do in that house is yell about things, like where is Kevin's wallet, and no he can't take my purse with him, and what happened to the money I gave him yesterday, and no he can't bring the baby with him to the 7-11 because what if he accidentally gives the baby a Slurpee because that might give the baby diabetes, and no I am not IMing Justin and even if I was he can't read what I said because he's functionally illegitimate anyway, or whatever that word is for not really being able to read. So it's nice to be out and about and I think Kevin does clean up real nice even if I secretly think he's turning out to be a total liability, which is what my manager called him this morning. And right after she said that she said that she didn't understand where this all came from anyway, and I told her that maybe she should have listened to me when I told her that I was so Lucky, I was a Star, but that I cried, cried, cried in my lonely heart and if there was nothing missing in my life, then why did my tears come at night, and she said she had no idea what I was talking about and I told her that it was a SONG I sang once and it was a big hit and then she said that she never paid that much attention and THEN I told her that she also should have listened to my song "Overprotected" which is all about how I was tired of people telling me what to do and this is why I keep saying that I don't know why everyone is so surprised I got married and had a baby because I've been trying to tell them all for YEARS that I was TIRED of not getting to EAT so THEY could make more MONEY and I SWEAR I HAVE JUST ABOUT HAD IT WITH EVERYONE I SEE EVERY DAY. Except Sean, because I could just eat up his cute little baby face.

So what I'm saying is: I'm glad to be out of the house, I wish I had worn pants, and I'm pretty sure that I'm going to fire everyone even my mom.

Hey everybody! We haven't talked in SO LONG, but I finally got a sec to myself and thought I would send y'all a birthday card from me, even though it's my birthday today, so I'm not really sure why I'm writing you a letter but I did have to buy my own presents from Kevin this year, so I guess age 24 is all about sisters doing it for themselves. I mean, I think I am going to have to do everything myself this year. Is what I meant.

ANYWAY, like I said, I finally got a minute away from my sweet little baby Sean and that big stupid baby Kevin and I decided, I know what I'm gonna do. I'm gonna put on my pirate boots and my short little fur coat and get my fuzzy fur purse that my mom swears is just roadkill with straps, and go out and buy myself some stuff!

And along with all the stuff I went out and bought myself for my birthday today, I also got myself another birthday present and that is the house to myself for a while. It's just me and Sean and my mom and sometimes Jamie Lynn and also my staff and sometimes that cute gardner we have, and it is so so peaceful.  Yes, everyone, the rumors are true, I have asked Kevin to go elsewhere for a little while so he can FIGURE OUT WHAT HIS PROBLEM IS, but this is not some kind of Jessica Simpson/Nick Lachey thing, we are not getting divorced, and Kevin is totally not moving in with Nick and that USC football player person like the National Enquirer said. I am just giving him time to MISS ME and also to GET A GRIP and stop PARTYING ALL NIGHT WHEN HE HAS AN INFANT AT HOME, LIKE, GOD.

Yeah, so, I guess what happened was that last week, I bought the baby to the Peninsula and I actually seriously had lunch with Justin (so he could meet the baby and also my new boobs, oh yes, I said it) and oh my god, don't tell anyone, but he is still SO CUTE and I sort of think I might still be in love with him but I am scared to say that aloud, but seriously, how can he really be happy with that skinny crackhead Cameron Diaz? I mean, for one thing, she is OLD, but anyway, he told me really really seriously that he thought I was better off without Kevin and I thought about it and I thought about it and I realized that Justin is right because Kevin totally doesn't even care about what happens in our family, like he just laughed that I time I thought the dog was having her brother's babies and I can't be with a man who doesn't understand that incest is wrong. Plus he keeps taking money out of my purse. So for my birthday I decided I should choose myself, just like Kelly Taylor, and see how that feels for once and you know what? SO FAR I LIKE IT.

So happy birthday to ME, Kevin. I HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY NOW.

And if you think I'm giving you any of my money, YOU ARE WRONG.

LOVE,

BRITNEY!