One year ago, Britney Spears shaved her head. It is the anniversary. Hooray.  

Why did she do it? It’s a valid question, I think. For really, that was the definitive moment—the moment her cracks began to show. Hacking her hair off in those big wet chunks with that look on her face—that creepy, creepy look! Like someone had attached a car battery to her nipples.  

It was the same look she had when she kicked the shit out of that Bronco with an umbrella. Well, it was asking for it.  

Before all of that happened, Britney was just Britney, and I just ignored her as any toss-away teeny-bopping trash deserves to be ignored. Contemptibly. Like Tiffany. Like Debby Gibson. Like, for God’s sake, Hanna the fuckuck Montata (which sounds like the an awful like a really dirty limerick if you ask me). But when she shaved her head, well, something happened. Some force was set in motion, some terrible cause whose only possible effect could be….well, this.  

On THAT day, ladies and gentlemen, she was sending us a message. A Big one. A loud one. You and I. All of us. And it was “HELP! I’ve just gone completely BANANAS!”  

And so she had.  

Heiney sight is so totally twenty-twenty. Or, um, something.  

Personally, I’m celebrating with a cake. Shaped like a big bald crazy head. You can get them from Safeway, if you call ahead.  

Ah, Safeway. Is there anything it can’t do? 

In other news: Paula Abdul, who is a drunk, i

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