Britney Spears

Brit Brit Spears posted this video the other day of SPF busting moves in her Home Goods showroom of a living room and let's just say that if any members of the Spears family should be charging $125 a ticket, it should be SPF! The best part is when SPF pushes JJ into the invisible wings for trying to upstage his ass by rolling in front of him. SPF is a one-Cheetoling show.

Brit Brit's concert understudy has been found. SPF doesn't even need to learn the lyrics to her songs. Just give him a piece of Bubble Yum to chew on and he'll look like he has better lip-synch skills than Brit Brit does. A star in the Cheetoverse has been born.

via Jezebel

Sam MerLESS (it's Saturday, leave me alone) made Brit Brit happier than a cross-eyed possum the other night when he asked her if she'd take him as her conservator-appointed husband and she flashed the shiny finger joobreeees he gave her all around Las Vegas last night. But Brit Brit's deep fried soul wasn't creaming itself over the engagement ring, it was losing it over all the cake, lollies, cake, lollies and caaaaaaaake she was presented with at her engagement party and his birthday party. Diamonds ain't a Brit Brit's best friend, granulated sugar is. Nothing turns her inside sads into inside happies like SUGAR! Brit Brit usually looks like a dead deer caught in broken headlights, but all her lights went on when they gave her cake.

You can't tell from these pictures, but Brit Brit fell so in love with that cake that she took off her diamond ring and stuffed it into the cake while asking it to be her betrothed. Then she swallowed that cake whole, pooted out the ring, slipped it back on her finger and fell back into a cloud of bloated bliss knowing that her ring was once inside her real true love. I mean, this is look the of true love.

Not only is that the look of true love, it's also the look Kim Richards makes when she tries to let out a brain and butt fart at the same time.

It looks like Brit Brit had a happy night all around. That's good she didn't let it get her down when a pack of rabid raccoons jumped her and scratched at her neck after mistaking her for a member of their rival gang. That's what she gets for doing her eyes up like a hood rat raccoon on heroin.

The ultimate act of romance will take place soon when Jason Trawick asks the judge in charge of Brit Brit's conservatorship case if they will grant him her hand in marriage as long as he promises to honor her, cherish her, obey her team of handlers and hide her meds in pizza rolls just like her daddy does. TMZ, UsWeekly and everybody else is reporting that Our Lady of Cheetos is about to become somebody's wife woman for the third time in her 30 years on Earth.

The hybrid of Sam Merlotte and a bodybuilding turtle dipped Brit Brit's sausage finger into a tub of Crisco and then slipped on an engagement ring at a private dinner for his 40th birthday last night. Daddy Spears has already taught Jason how his baby likes her Velveeta grits (that's the equivalent of giving his blessing) and now the judge just has to sign off on this shit. Brit Brit Twatted this out this morning:

OMG. Last night Jason surprised me with the one gift I've been waiting for. Can't wait to show you! SO SO SO excited!!!! Xxo

That Tweet really doesn't mean anything. Jason could've given her Slim Jim-flavored lip chap for all we know. But anyway, congrats to the future Mrs. Trainwreck. And also, congrats to the makers of the Cheetos wedding dress, the Frappuccino fountain, the Gummy Bears bouquet and also to Del Taco's fine dining catering department, because something tells me they're about to get some business.

The pat-and-peel Cracker Jack tattoos on the bargain basement Sam Merlotte!

The hot doorway dance moves (you know I love doorway dancing)!

The shower sex scene that looks like two crawdads steaming to death in a glass pot on a car-powered hot plate!

The bobbies shooting at bitches for robbing a convenience store!

The bobbies and their shit aim!

The bathroom stinking up worse than shit marinated in asparagus piss thanks to Brit Brit spraying that perfume around!

The raw emotional acting that should win several lifetime achievement Oscar Mayer awards!

Those are just some of the thoughts that jumped out of the broken toilet in my head while watching Brit Brit's video for "Criminal." If it was up to Brit Brit, the video would be 6 minutes of her reenacting Natural Born Killers with animal crackers, so this is twenty steps up from that. The only thing this is missing is a scene at the beginning of SPF in a jailbird outfit playing a Velveeta cheese flute as Officer Bit Bit looks on. (Never Forget Bit Bit.)

While chewing on a piece of Velveeta gum and holding paws with her man friend Billy Bob Merlotte, Brit Brit yawled into London today to shoot her video for Criminal before going off to Russia to put the thrill into audiences with her world-renowned mouth moving act that Lambchop ain't got shit on.

The last time Brit Brit was in the UK, Customs quarantined her Cujo weave for 6 months and it broke her medicated spirit, because her head was forced to take a weave of absence (I don't know what that means, but I really wanted to use "weave of absence" in a sentence.) But this time around, the Afghan Hound ear on the top of her head got all of its vaccinations, cleared Customs and was allowed into the country. Tanks Jeebus H Krissy!!!

And I appreciate that Brit is paying homage to the late and great Jeannie Bice by wearing a Quacker Factory buttoned t-shirt with wings (that's what Brit Brit calls it).

Looking like a young Ray Romano's failed audition for the Dustin Hoffman role in Midnight Cowboy, Lady CaCa busted into a way too long high school drama class monologue at the beginning of the MTV VMAs tonight. This shit made me wish that the MTV censors mistook Caca for Andrew Dice Clay and banned him all over again. How are you going to untuck your tuck and not bring any bulge to the stage? For once, Brit Brit's heavily medicated face said it all so I didn't have to:

Brit Brit is either wondering why she's the one with a conservator and can't even wipe her possum poon without a handler standing over her to hand her a court-appointed piece of toilet paper, or she's wondering why the Middle Eastern mechanic she huffed freon with during her gas station hopping days is on stage at the VMAs.

And here's Brit Brit with her piece Jason Trawick. Nothing takes a dude from Sam Merlotte Lite to Willard like a middle part.

Finally, a story that has two of my favorite things: farts & Cheetos!

Fernando Flores is that former bodyguard of Brit Brit Spears who claimed last year that she belt beat her Cheetolings and constantly tried to get him to turn her down low pastry puff into a pig in a blanket. Every now and again, Fernando crawls out from under his roach cave to make what he thinks are scandalous claims hoping that it will help his $10 million sexual harassment case against Our Lady of Cheetos.

Fernando is back and this time he's saying Brit Brit did meth, farted all the time, picked boogers without apologizing, stayed away from shower nozzles and had the hygiene of a sewer possum's ass. Yes, Fernando must be new here, because that information wouldn't make us push out a shockface in 2008, so it sure as hell isn't going to have that effect now. But let's humor Fernando since he's talking about farts!

Radar got a hold of the documents that Fernando filed in court recently and this is what he has to say about how Brit picked out nose nuggets her weave would run from and how her butt would constantly burp out un-auto tuned farts.

He claims, "Defendant Spears was mentally unstable, and personally obnoxious and demanding, requiring her staff on various occasions and for no rationally discernible reasons to address her as "Jennifer" or "Queen Bee," on other occasions, Defendant Spears would cut her hair in an erratic fashion, leaving uneven and bald spots on her head."

Spears had obnoxious personal habits, such as chain smoking cigarettes, which made her smell continually of stale tobacco," he wrote in his court document.

"She broke wind or picked her nose unselfconsciously and unapologetically before Plaintiff (Flores) and others and she was constantly and gratuitously loud and profane in her speech.

She did not bathe for days on end, did not use deodorant, did not brush her teeth, did not fix her hair, did not wear shoes or socks."

If there were zero "nots" in that statement then it would be something straight out of The Department of New Information!!!!, but that is not the case. But Fernando did get one thing wrong. Brit Brit only pushed her ass out to pre-recorded farts. Fart-synching, thankyouverymuch. Fernando better correct that, because Brit Brit has a reputation to uphold.

This is not as random as pictures of Daddy Spears in a Velveeta-colored Speedo, but it's still pretty damn random. For some reason, 56-year-old Lynne Spears covered the holy vagine that pushed out the Frito-Lay messiah in a black one-piece and gave the paps a water show in some aquarium pool thing in Dallas, Texas on 7-11. Brit Brit's Cheetolings and Jamie Lynn's daughter also gave it their all in front of the cameras, but Mama Spears was the true star.

If Brit Brit ever has to do a photo shoot where the Photoshop budget is as thin as the two natural hairs on her scalp, then she should just throw a possum nest on Mama Spears' head and tell the photographer to go at it. I'll tell Brit Brit the same thing some nasty old delusional piece of shit hobo man told my me in the parking lot of a Rite-Aid last year: "That's your mom?! She looks better and younger than you do!" Motherfucker!

With the help of a polka dot bikini from Charlotte Russe's archive closet, a jacket picked up from Forever 21's dressing room floor, Avril Lavigne's scalped weave, a new cocktail of meds, a pervert baby, a leche facial, Guillermo from Weeds, the set from Janet Jackson's Alright video and Michael Jackson's Thriller laugh, Brit Brit Spears battles an army of robot paparazzos in her new video for that Bravo theme song.

Maybe it's because I'm old fashioned at heart and prefer the classics, but I liked it a lot more when Brit Brit would attack the paps with a green umbrella while looking like a thumb man scorned. I wonder if they play that on AMC?

via ONTD

Because somebody has to put a bag of Wonder Bread on the Spears family table, Brit Brit Spears popped her possum poon and spread her monkey bread loaves on various inanimate objects at the opening night of her Femme Fatale tour in Sacramento, CA last night. Not only did Brit Brit come out as objectum sexualist, but I'm told that her microphone was turned on and she actually made sounds with her vocal cords into it. !!!!!!!! Smear Frapp crust on my no-no and fuck me with a Slim Jim, because this is a TWIST! This is also the worst thing that's happened to the art of lip-synching since Puttin' on the Hits was canceled. Bitch's vocal cords were probably mad as cold shit that she woke them up from their long nap. They're like, "....the fuck? This is not part of the game."

Here's a way too long clip of Brit Brit allegedly farting musical notes into a mic with her mouth. ALLEGEDLY!

Yeah, it still looks and sounds to me like she's moving her Cheeto suckers to a track. If you played this song while watching a video of a dog slurping up water from a hose in slow motion, it might look the same. But since Brit Brit is stuffed into that satin white diaper so tight that she's inspired me to make Velveeta souffle for dinner, I will believe.

Work it like a trailer park belly dancer, Brit!