The International Federation of Drugged Up Freaks and Baby Endangerers (or IFUDODUFABy) has named Britney Spears the NEW Michael Jackson!

“Well, heck y’all! It’s just the ding-dangest ding-dang honor that God has seen fit to be blessing me with, next to my naturally hairless cooch! I guess child endangering and being a drugged up freak is just in my blood; it hardly took not effort at all!”

Experts everywhere are shocked and amazed at Britney’s correct use of the semicolon in the above address.

Elsewhile, in even bigger boobs: Some dirty old pervert that runs some dirty old rag called “Playboy” or something (I’ve never heard of it either) has slapped God, starving people everywhere, and our brave men and women in Iraq somehow in the face by offering some repulsive bleach-blonde water-bed chested collagen bag calling itself “Pamela Anderson” (nope…doesn’t ring any bells) ONE MILLION (yes, a million) dollars to merely expose her gravid, pendulous, gargantuan, and almost planetoid “breasts” (oh, un, and her muff too, I guess) in the pages of his filthy filthy magazine.

She has declined, as their tremendous gravitational pull refracts the light in such a dramatic fashion that it renders their image impossible to capture by regular camera, and because then Tommy Lee will have to beat up every guy in the country. Well, every straight guy. Which leaves me the hell out of the equation, unfortunately. (I’d love to get my ass kicked by Tommy Lee. Rrrrrrr—WOOOF!) “A million dollars to show boobies?” remarked the new Nazi Pope, “Is a sin! That money could be preventing abortions and gay weddings!” The jackass.

Oh, and Playboy asked someone called “Denise Richards” to pose nude for a million bucks too. For some reason, that just doesn’t bother me one bit. Or the Pope. I asked. We’re close. Which means, he sucks my nipples for nickels.

Kidding. Fucking Nazi.

Elsewhere: Vivica Fox plead “Not Guilty” to drunk driving, but very guilty to slaughtering puppies with razor blades and drinking their blood to maintain her hellish youth. Maybe. I’m pretty drunk. Who can be sure?

By Adrian Ryan

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