Britney Spears

Oh my God, y'all, it's been way too long since like we talked and stuff! But I have had my hands full with being all huge and pregnant because it turns out that being pregnant is actually sort of uncomfortable and even though I thought I would be all glowing and stuff the whole time, I actually mostly just had to pee a lot and then I had, like, this really big fight with my mom because she told me I looked broad as a barn, or something, which I think is just mean, because the Chillatos I was drinking were for her GRANDSON, hello, and then Kevin was just I don't even know where half the time, but all that's over now because I had the baby and now I'm back out at the Coffee Bean!

Okay, now, just wait a second. I know the pants are way too long. I know, I know, I know. They are. But I am a NEW MOTHER and I don't have time to be all running out to Demin Doctors or whatever to get my jeans hemmed up. I am BRINGING UP A CHILD. I am INVESTING IN THE FUTURE OF AMERICA THROUGH THE CHILDREN, or something. I don't have time for TAILORS and stuff. But other than that, seriously, don't you think I actually look pretty good, I mean, considering? I mean, didn't you sort of suspect that I might just totally start showing up places wearing like a muu-muu and one of those old lady rain hats made out of old plastic bags and chain-smoking or something? Like I would just decide that I was totally going to just give up on all that exercising they used to make me do and start living on, you know, fiery Cheetos and Jolt?  Okay, but listen, listen -- didn't you also think I was going to name the baby, like, Marlboro Milkshake Spears or something lame like that? DIDN'T YOU? I KNOW you did. And I DIDN'T. I DIDN'T. I named him SEAN. Like a NORMAL PERSON. See, I can be a TOTALLY NORMAL PERSON even though I have all these people with cameras following me around and my husband won't stop drinking Pabst straight out of the tap, like would it kill him to use a cup or something? Between you and me, and please seriously don't mention this to the Star or anything, he is really starting to get on my nerves. First of all, he was smoking a cigar to celebrate having the baby and that's totally fine but he actually lit the cigar with a two dollar bill that he set on fire and I told him that we don't have enough money to actually DO THAT and then he told me that a two dollar bill WASN'T REAL MONEY and then I actually had to take him to the McDonald's and buy some McNuggets with one before he would believe me that it was and honestly I am getting a little tired of his behavior and I am thinking about taking the baby and a couple of the nannies and getting in the car and going to Justin's and just throwing myself on his mercy because he totally can't turn down a girl who has a baby because that would just be mean.

And Kevin and my mother can just fend for themselves. See how they like it when I'm not even around anymore. Here's a hint: THEY WON'T.

Yo, bitches. K-Fizzle here.

I just snuck out of the house to pick up some shit at the mini-mart while Whatshername is home sticking Oreos in our new deep-fryer. [Dude, that's not a eupha...eupharm...something clean you say when you mean something dirty. Seriously, it's like she's sticking something into that deep fryer all damn day long. Something about craving something and batter being good for the baby? Whatever. I don't know. All I know is how good my baby batter is. AW YEAHS, BITCHES, I SAID IT. Heh.  Heh. Dude, after my record drops I am totally going to get a gig at the Stand-Up Club or whatever that place Pauly Shore runs is called, because I TOTALLY CRACK MY SHIT UP.]

Yeah, anyway, I just ran out to get some water and some Cheetos and some beef jerky and some ice cream sandwiches and a couple of Twinkies and then I had to run by my dealer's house because B said she didn't want him to deliver my shit anymore because he was "a bad influence on the baby," or some shit, and then I was like, (a) the baby isn't even OUT yet, (2) it's not like he was a bad influence on all those other kids I have, I'm pretty sure, but then she said some BULLSHIT about not paying for it anymore and then, dude, I swear to God, she reached for my hand and TRIED TO PUT IT IN THE DEEP FRYER and, man, HORMONES, dude, dial it DOWN. So I ran out to give her some time to chill. She has been seriously so crabby ever since she caught me going through the safe.

Anyway, I'm trying and shit. I feel like I should at least try and stick it out for the kid, for a little while. And because she's been whining about my shoes for like the last SIX MONTHS, like, I will tie my shoes if I FEEL LIKE IT, bitch, I finally decided to shut her up and got a new pair. Check it:

Stylish AND functional, right? I love how it makes it look like I've got camel toe ON MY FEET. Heh. God, that's weird. It's like I'm a woman from the ankle down. Well, two women. Who have five legs inside their pants....well, three legs in one pant leg and two in....because of my actual toes...shit, now my head hurts.  Analogies or whatever are fucking hard. But look how clean my socks are! Right out of the plastic bag, bitches. Ain't nothing too good for me now. As long as I can find my dealer's house and Her Majesty don't stick the manpris in the deep fryer, nothing can touch me, you know?

Peace izzle,

K-Fed

Hi y'all!

It's been so long, y'all! But I've been so busy, you know, with, like, growing the baby, and making that TV show thingie that Kevin and I did about how I talked him into marrying me even though my parents really hated him and that was fun. I have to point out, first of all, y'all, that I look awfully happy, don't I? Isn't my skin nice? Wouldn't you saying I'm glowing or something?

And look at my belly -- I mean, my bump! Look at my bump! I have a bump and my bump has a BABY in it! A real little person with little nails and little toes and other little body part things. I want everyone to see my bump because my bump proves that Kevin loves me and not just my money even though he also thinks that my money is pretty fucking sweet, which is what he said to me this morning while he was rummaging through my purse looking for my checkbook. He's so cute. Did you see how he told me he loved me on the finale of our TV show thingie? I cried and cried, y'all. Do you think Cameron Diaz ever leaves special little notes to her boyfriend WHOSE NAME I HAVE FORGOTTEN at the end of her stupid show about traveling the world or whatever? Because I bet she doesn't and even if she does, I bet she has to write them herself while Kevin actually got my mom to write what he said to me. Isn't that romantic? They both really love me. My mom even told me that she's praying to God every night that this baby gets my looks which I think is really sweet since that must mean she thinks I'm pretty. She also told Jamie Lynn that she's trying to get Kevin deported, which totally surprised me because I never even told her how much Kevin likes boats. Although when I told Jamie Lynn that she just looked at me funny, but I don't really think Jamie Lynn knows anything that's going on anyway.

AND I just bought these great cowboy boots because nothing is more comfortable when you've got swollen ankles than cowboy boots. So basically things are totally great right now! And if someone maybe bought a billboard outside the bedroom window of a boy I'll call "Mustin Fimberlake" that saws "I WIN,"  then that someone wouldn't be totally wrong about the winning, don't you think? And I also think that if I were him I would probably want to call me to find out if I was the person who bought the billboard, though, and then maybe I would ask me if I wanted to go to lunch and then maybe I would adopt my baby and take me to Capri for the summer but YOU DIDN'T HEAR THAT FROM ME and shit, Kevin's home. Gotta go. Bye!

What are all y'all looking at?

Haven't y'all ever seen a pregnant lady wear a tablecloth to the video store? Jeez.

Yo bitches. Cletus McK-Fed here.

[Photo: PacificCoastNewsOnline.com]

Yeah, yeah, I know. I know, a'ight? But she really wanted a damn baby and the bitch who signs the checks gots the power, you know? It was all blah blah baby blah blah baby blah blah fertile blahedy blah something about Justin blah. Damn, I just got tired of hearing it, you know? And I thought if she had a baby and shut up already, maybe she'd stop buying so many damn dogs. Did you hear that bullshit about the incest puppies? Christ. I told her a thousand damn times that the dogs aren't fucking related and that even if they were, who gives a shit? They're fucking dogs dude, and her whining about it was totally harshing my buzz. And then she started crying again and shit, and, dudes, I just COULD NOT TAKE IT anymore. So I hit her with El Spermination. Maybe this will keep her busy for a while so I can take off to Vegas with my BOYZ. [Big ups to Fresno! Yeah yeah!]

On the DL, I gots to admit, dude: I am kinda proud of my swimmers, you know? I am FEE-IRTLE. [Or FED-IRTLE? Heh. Heh. Heh. God. I'm good.] Who KNOWS how many babies I got in this town? Hells, I've tapped A LOT of ladies between here and the Nevada border. I know I gave that one chick the syph, but who knows what else I been giving 'em, if you know what I mean and I mean mini-Feds. I'm making myself a damn basketball team, dude. Maybe we can go on the road and get away from Loudmouth over there.

Dudes, she's starting whining about my clothes. Yeah. She's all in a muumuu and shit and she's crying that my shoes are untied and my manpris are all tore up and why can't I dress like a grown-up and DAMN BITCH, my manpris are all tore up because your damn dogs keep trying to bite me and end up coming away with the hem of my pants, bitch. Thank God I buy XXXL. Damn.

And then she made me get these damn hair extensions because she was tired of people calling me "90210" and then we saw a rerun of You Got Served on STARS and she was all up in my grill about how hot I look with hair and shit and what the hell else am I supposed to do? She changed the PIN on our ATM card AGAIN and not to 1234 this time. So I gots to get the hair until I figure that shit out and I can blow town again.

A'ight. I gots to get out of here. I've got like seven child support payments to mail before the 15th.

Late.

K Fed

Hi, y'all. Sorry it's been so long since we've talked, but I have had a lot of stuff on my plate, you know? Like, a lot. I am just so exhausted. Seriously. Look at me:

I just don't even have the energy to even, like, brush my hair anymore, you know? My mom used to do it for me when my arms were too tired from dancing, but she's real mad at me right now. She said something the other night about my "passive-aggressive acting out," and I don't really know what that means but it doesn't sound very nice and she slammed the door after she said it so I know she's mad.

I had a real bad weekend, people. Okay, so I've been really really busy fighting all the false tabloids. Writing angry letters is really tiring, first of all, because I have to keep getting up and going to the dictionary, but it's totally worth it because it's a cause I really believe in. I mean, I am so tired of reading about how I'm all pregnant and Kevin is all going to Vegas and whooping it up while I'm stuck in this stupid condo throwing up while those guys are painting our house in Malibu and I don't even like that house. I mean, I AM pregnant and Kevin IS running off to Vegas and drinking with those trampy-ass strippers and I swear to God if I catch him touching one of them I'm going to snatch him bald but I really don't know how they know any of that except for that ONE phone conversation I had with that one girl who works for the Star.

Anyway. So I've been doing that. And then we came to the Miramont for the weekend and I was getting ready to go to brunch with Jamie Lynne and I was putting on my jeans and they don't even fit anymore because I'm getting so fat from this baby and then I just started to cry because I didn't have anything else to wear and I couldn't find Kevin because he told me he couldn't listen to my voice for one more minute and then he left the suite and went and got his own room - using my credit card because I am beginning to think that he's just with me for my money and let me tell you I AM NOT HAPPY ABOUT THAT -- but I really wanted some bacon so I had to put on this stupid muumuu that Jamie had bought in the gift shoppe as a gift for our grandma and then we went into brunch and I couldn't stop crying and I could barely eat my hot links.

And you'd think that would be all the bad things that would happen to me but no, then I found out that Bit Bit is PREGNANT and the Puppy Daddy is MY BROTHER BRYAN'S DOG. That is INCEST, y'all. INCEST is totally wrong and gross, which I have learned from watching Passions recently, and also from the Bible and stuff.  What am I supposed to do? My dog can't have an incest baby, but I can't get the dog an abortion but what if her puppies have two heads or little fish gills or something? That is NOT RIGHT. I don't have TIME to deal with INCEST PUPPIES. I have A LOT GOING ON.  I am fighting the false tabloids and I am trying to help Kevin make an album although HE IS NO JUSTIN TIMBERLAKE and I am NOT just talking about SINGING but you didn't hear that from me. I am ALSO trying to create a warm and loving womb for my fetus, like I read in some book about babies and stuff, and I am ALSO trying to quit Red Bull because it's bad for the baby AND I caught Kevin stealing money from my purse the other day and I am beginning to regret even marrying him because for one thing LOOK AT HIS PANTS and also I don't understand why he won't tie his shoes even though I used to think that was cute, it's starting to REALLY BOTHER ME because he LOOKS LIKE AN IDIOT and also HE KEEPS TRIPPING AND I REALLY REALLY THINK MAYBE I SHOULDN'T HAVE MARRIED HIM PLEASE PLEASE CALL ME JUSTIN PLEASE.

God. I am so tired. I can't even handle any of this anymore. I'm just going to take a nap after I call the bank and change my ATM PIN so Kevin doesn't take off to TJ again. Last time he didn't even bring me any Percocet. I am beginning to think maybe he is not really a very thoughtful person.

[Photo courtesy of Daily Celeb.]

Hi y'all! It is, like, so exciting to be at an event on my OWN, for once, without Britney -- she's taking the dogs to Mystic Tan -- or my mama, who's at home reading the pre-nup over and over again. She hasn't put that thing down in months! Something about "ratfaced pimpbag"...? Maybe? Is that by Louis Vuitton? I don't know! But she loves purses, so maybe. Mama doesn't tell me anything, mostly because she's always off in the corner rocking back and forth and moaning, and when I try to get her to watch my show, Zoey 101, she just mutters the words "chastity belt" and then starts to cry while she chants something about dirty moneygrubbing pig-ignorance. Maybe she doesn't like my manager?

Anyway, I did get some styling tips from Britney, though, before I came. Like my hair. She told me to dye it brown because then you don't have to wash it as often, and that way, you can not bother with the shower until you can smell yourself without even having to stick your nose in your armpit. That's her system. She really loves the environment, and is trying to save water, and stuff. Then she helped me add the wrinkles to my shirt and pants, because ironing is so last millennium. When she stepped all over my pants it left them with this really cool uneven-hem look, which I love. And she told me not to worry about standing up straight, because only boring people do that, and anyway, if you slouch then you're closer to, like, the fans, and stuff.

And then she let me borrow this jacket she made out of one of the baby blankets she's stocked up on. Kevin ripped it up one night before he disappeared for Las Vegas again, so while Brit was cleansing her system with vodka -- she told me that disinfects your organs better than one of those colonic thingies -- she turned the blanket into a little coat for BitBit, but it didn't fit. So I get it.

She's going to be the best mom! Especially because she doesn't sit alone in corners rocking back and forth.

Yo, bitches. K Fed here. Some of you call me Cletus. That's a'ight. Listen, Meal Ticket over there made me pose for the cover of fucking Details magazine, dude.  She was all like, "blah blah hot, blah blah not a skeezebucket blah blah something something something." Like I listen. Anyway, check it:

[photo via the always juicy and delicious PageSixSixSix, and the divine Stereogum]

Dude.  I know.  When B saw it, she was all, something about me looking fucking sensitive, or some shit? Something about showing Justin something about her winning something? I don't even know, dude. I just tune out, yo. Wake and bake and tune the fuck out.

The thing is, dude, those bitches at Details? No clue how to appeal to the ladies, right? When you're on the prowl, dude, the facial hair has got to go. Get it all clean-shaven. All David Fucking "You Are So Precious To Me" Silver up in here. The ladies are gaging for D. Silver, dudes. Gagging. You got to get the grease all out of your hair. You got to look all so fresh and so clean.  You got to borrow a puppy from someone but not a little rat ass puppy like this one, like a MAN puppy like a retriever or some shit so you look all wholesome and responsible and shit. Girls love that. Maybe hang out with a baby, too. I told them I should be holding a baby in this picture, but they said something about not wanting to remind people that I was a "serial impregnator" or something? I don't even know what that means, but I told them I didn't have a criminal record except for that one time they got me for possession. But this is so not the look you use when it's time to get your van rocking, if you know what I mean. I look like a serial killer, yo. I look like I'm about to snap that rat puppy's neck and, hells yeah, I hate that dog but I'm not a dog killer, dude. I just lock them in their room and pretend they're not there. One day, I'm going to do that to Britney, too. HAHAHHAHA. I'm just kidding. Not really. Nah, I'm just messing with you. No, I'm not. No, really I am.

Anyway, B has this cover all framed and hung up in her "office" (which is where we keep the weed. I'm a professional toker, dude. Heh. Wouldn't it be rad if that was really a job? I'm qualified. HAHAHAH. Heh. Heh. Where was I?) but I'm going to hide it as soon as she goes out to the pool because seriously? I know. I know. It's retardo. I know.  It's going to totally salt my game, yo. Dude, just because I'm ringed up right now doesn't mean my shot clock has expired and shit, if you know what I mean. I mean, seriously, I just hope Paris Hilton doesn't see this because as soon as I've got B knocked up, P is next. Watch out, Paris, because Cletus is checking into the Hilton. Heh heh. God, I'm funny.

Aw, Christ. B is yelling at me. We're out of Cheetos. Gotta run, dude. Seriously, though, come by sometime. We've got a ton of good shit here. I have a bitchin' Playstation and we've got Pabst on TAP, dude. It's sweet.

Outtie,

Big Ups to Fresno!

Cletus AKA K Fed

Oh my God, you guys, merry Christmas! Happy Ch -- Han --- Chaan -- yeah, I totally can't spell that, y'all. The one with the candles and the potato pancakes like they serve at Arby's? Happy that! And Happpy New Year!

I just can't wait to see what happens in 2005, because I bet it will totally involve me having a little baby and then Cletus will love me forever for reals because when you have a baby with a lady you are not allowed to leave her, except for when that happened with Shar, but that's totally different because of how Shar wouldn't let Cletus do things that were really important to him, like how he's researching the medical effects of marijuana on his glaucoma.

I know you are totally wondering why I look so happy in my furry hat and the truth is that I am happy because my furry hat is actually kind of cute but I am really mostly happy because I am thinking about my awesome New Years resolutions, which totally rock, y'all. My New Years resolutions are to have a little baby and also to stay out of the way of the Fug Girls because they are really not very nice to me even I know they say what they do because they want the best for me and they're worried that I got worms from walking into public restrooms barefoot but what they don't know is that public restrooms are really very clean. But anyway I have two whole weeks to wear WHATEVER I WANT because Go Fug Yourself is going on Winter Holiday Hiatus until January 3rd and I am TOTALLY going to walk around barefoot with my thong hanging out and I'm not going to wash my hair or wash my face or brush my teeth for TWO WHOLE WEEKS because there's NOTHING THEY CAN DO ABOUT IT HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!

LOVE,

BRITNEY!

[Editorial note: if Britney does anything just mind-bogglingly godawful and terribly alarming, like get married again, we'll be on the case. Otherwise, dear readers, have a wonderful holiday and a fantastic New Year. Thank you for your readership and remarkable support of us this year, and we'll see you in 2005! Love, Heather and Jessica]

Hi y'all!

It's Britney again! I know we just talked and all, but I totally wanted to show that, seriously, y'all, I can totally clean up good. See?

Photo courtesy Daily Celeb

Let's not even talk about how fine my hubby is. He is so,so fine. I have to tell you a secret, though: I totally miss his shorts, y'all. That patch of skin between where Kevvie's tube socks end and his frayed, cut-off manpris begin is so hot! I want to lick it! Yummy! But doesn't he look totally hot in that hat? It's kind of like this hat that Justin used to wear someti -- I mean, never mind. Never mind. I never said that, y'all. Anyway, I totally wanted Kevvie to wear these formal manpris I made for him last week by taking this pair of tuxedo pants that Justin left here once back when we where still together that I refused to give back to him and cutting off the bottom of them so they would be all frayed but my mother said no and I was like, blah blah blah Mom, I'm totally married now and if I want my husband to wear Justin's old tuxedo pants as cutoffs to an awards show I TOTALLY CAN but then she distracted me with this shiny Christmas tree ornament we got from Walmart last week and grabbed the tuxedopris from me and threw them in the fireplace which is TOTALLY NO FAIR, but whatever, he looks hot in the suit ANYWAY.

But let's talk about my outfit because it is so totally cute. When the salesgirl at the Dress Barn told me that I looked like a lampshade, I knew I had to have it. Also, when I was getting ready and Jamie Lynne was helping me and brushing my hair -- and she brushed it really, really hard, y'all, I almost cried -- and she told me I looked like a refugee from a Third World road tour of the Ice Capades, I knew it was the right choice for tonight because Jamie really loves ice skating. Then she said something about how at least my hair doesn't look like I brushed it with a Mix Master and I totally don't know what that means but I am pretty sure it was nice.

Seriously, though, don't Kevin and I look super happy together? They took this picture right after I told him that one of my Christmas presents to him was the joint checking account he was asking for, so he could write ME checks of love just like I write for him. Isn't that the sweetest? I can't wait until Justin Timberlake and that skinny, cracked out ho he's running around with see how happy I am! With my HUSBAND! HAHAHAH JUSTIN I WIN. Even though I still love you. I mean, I love NOT BEING WITH YOU.

HAPPY HOLIDAYS, Y'ALL!