Archive for September 12th, 2007

Dear Lord. I had only heard about how pathetic she looked at the MTV VMAs this past Sunday. Now I’ve seen the video of it. I can’t believe that this was the same Britney Spears that used to make Bob Dole holler for Viagra. Since misery loves company, here’s the video. Talk about a long, hard fall from grace. Eeesh!

I almost feel sorry for her. Almost. She brought all this on herself. She is the mother of two children now and should act like one. Her priorities are so out of whack you have no choice but to think drugs, alcohol, mental problems, or all the above are coming into play here.

And talk about not wanting to let go of the past. This is worse than Bill Clinton leaving fingernail marks on the hardwood floors when they dragged him out of the White House. She is sad in how much she is clinging on to what she once was. Just let go! This is not the right time in her life to be wearing that outfit. In fact, that time is long gone. And the lipsynching is painful. I hope she just phoned it in, because if she put in any effort whatsoever, it’s laughable.

I will defend her on one point. In today’s society, when I easily see fat girls exposing their bellys by wearing small t-shirts that don’t cover enough around every corner (even at work sometimes), why wouldn’t Britney Spears feel like she was in good enough shape to wear whatever it was she was wearing Sunday night? Seriously. Why do fat girls feel the need to show us their guts? But that’s a whole other rant.


So, was there ever a funeral held for the death of Hot Britney? Because she died a long time ago, brothers. Now we’re stuck with Miss Piggy’s stunt double. Please put some clothes on, lady.

-Dave Q.

***UPDATE***  Looks like those pricks at Viacom are trying to had their bad decisions and took down the Spears VMA video.   Sorry.

September 2007
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Today's Deep Thought

  • I remember that one fateful day when coach took me aside. I knew what was coming. 'You don't have to tell me,' I said. 'I'm off the team, aren't I?' 'Well,' said coach, 'you never were really on the team. You made that uniform you're wearing out of rags and towels, and your helmet is a toy space helmet. you show up at practice and then either steal the ball and make us chase you to get it back, or you try to tackle people at inappropriate times.' It was all true what he was saying. And yet, I thought something is brewing inside the head of this coach. He sees something in me, some kind of raw talent that he can mold. But that's when I felt the handcuffs go on.