I know I’ve alluded to it–dropped little hints here and there–but the time has come to be what they call “explicit”. “Frank”. Ahem…”honest”, even. Indeed. And honestly? I would rather eat a plate of deep fried sheep shit than pay one single iota more attention to Britney fucking Spears, in any way, at all, ever, period. I have come to loathe and dread the very mention of her name. Overexposure? Thy name is Britney Spears. I am thrown into fits of contempt at the sight of her. How common she is, how repetitive, how dull. What’s that you say? No? Really? She missed another court date? She ran another red light? She drove a bus full of blind children off a cliff? She called in sick to some important hearing, and was humping a pole in some nightclub two hours later? She STOLE A LIGHTER? Surely, you jest! Fascinating. Really. Now pardon me a moment, won’t you, while I blow by brains out.

So this is my moment. I’m taking a stand. Someone has got to say enough, and that someone is me. ENOUGH! I don’t want to hear or read or see another peep about the bleach blonde biznatch that is Spears from the moment onward. This isn’t a request. It is a demand! And I will do my part by refusing to talk or write or even think about her ever again, barring the day she either a) opens fire in a mall killing 6 and wounding dozens, before turning the gun on herself, b) contracts Ebola a begins hemorrhaging blood from every orifice, c) is somehow eaten alive by her own vagina, d) explodes. Deal? DEAL?

Thank. The fuck. You.

Next, in annoying lesbians: ginormous dyke Rosie O’Donnell, horrified and furious at Jodie Foster for getting more attention than her lately (finger-jockeys—they’re SO competitive) has wrenched the terrible spotlight back onto her bitchy and corpulent self by picking a fight with Hulk Hogan. Here’s the “he said, she said”:

First HE said, “I wish someone would kick that big fat bitch’s ass!” or something. 

Then SHE said (or rather, blogged): “Oh yeah? Bring it on you big pussy! I’ll wreck you!”

Then he said, “I’d kill you with my bare hands, but I don’t wanna get any of your grouchy dyke juice all over my sexy, sexy leotard!”

And so forth. Experts who are mostly me agree that Rosie and Hulk are equally matched forces in every way imaginable (they’re practically the same person already), and, should this battle of words escalate to something more physical and dramatic, like J-Ello wrestling, they are certain to destroy each other. Let’s keep our fingers crossed.

Adrian Ryan

Share It!