Y'all have gone a bit Britney crazy, and if it weren't for your blogs I wouldn't even know they split the sheets. Apparently, my eyes are glued shut as I pass the magazine rack at the grocery check-out stand, not unlike the undiscerning and pious monkey.
Grant Miller's Officially commented.
Unremitting Failure's take"
"Britney Files for Divorce
Like America, it took her years of getting fucked by an idiot to realize she'd made a mistake."
This from The Dooce!:
Chaotic no More
Wednesday, 08 November 2006
A few of you have written to ask what I think of the divorce filing heard round the world, that which Ms. Spears has drawn up against the burrowing wombat who has had access to her credit cards for the last two years, he who regularly feasts on rubber boots and sprinkler heads, he whose life is a fart joke. And I’ve been trying to come up with a way to sum up my feelings, and I guess there’s no easy way to say this because you never hope for the dissolution of a family, especially when young children are involved. But, the fact that she decided finally to flick him off her collar like a hardened, crusty booger is almost RIGHT THERE with the Democrats taking back the House in terms of hope for the future of America.
And did you see how she looked the previous night when she made a surprise appearance on Letterman? Her make-up was clean, and her dress was classy, and her hair was freshly washed and styled, as if someone somewhere found the right sequence of hillbilly lingo to convince her that she will not be forsaking her heritage if she spends a few dollars on hygiene. Although, you shouldn’t read that as a dig on the way she looked before, because I do believe that there was an undeniable authenticity to the way she showed up to interviews looking like a mother whose one-year-old had just puked up formula all over the front of the rayon blouse she bought special at Ross, and she didn’t have time to wipe all the splatter out of her bangs. I identified with that.
But I also identify with this Britney, the one who looks happy and vibrant and ready once again for the world to ogle her spectacular boobs. Because if there is one thing Britney is good at, it’s embodying every incarnation of crazy — the tired crazy, the manic crazy, the hormonal and thought she couldn’t get pregnant while breastfeeding crazy — and here she is as The Other Side of Crazy where it seems like she’s finally taking charge and saying, you know what? Enough. I’d like to feel good about myself for a while. Let’s make that happen.
You could say I’m a tiny bit thrilled.
I’m headed out to New York City very early tomorrow (Thursday) morning and will be staying through the weekend for a few engagements. Not sure yet what sights I’m going to see or what shops or restaurants I’m going to hit, and since I haven’t been in over 10 years I’m curious as to what the city will mean to me this time, now as an older, non-Mormon adult with cash. Jon and Leta are staying home which means I may end up hibernating in the hotel room trying to coax Leta into singing Mormon hymns over the phone one more time. Jesus, he wants her for a sunbeam.
And The Stitch roasted her too.