Dear Britney,
I was never your biggest fan, but I have been observing your career
relatively closely. It's not like I have a choice considering you were a
news item on Perez Hilton every single day.
When you exploded into the charts with your annoying hit song "Hit Me
Baby One More Time", I looked at my then fellow Form 2 classmates in
disgust when one by one, they started tying their hair in ponytails and
hiking up the hemlines of their skyblue pinafore by 3 inches. But at the
same time, I thought, white trash or not, a star is born.
You then relentlessly opened the floodgates of cheesy tween pop songs
onto thousands of high schools all round the world, like you were hell-
bent on world domination. You were on the cover of every magazine,
endorsing everything 'cool' that needs to be endorsed, setting trends
with your low slung hipsters made even more popular with availability in
Walmarts around the globe, and dazzling the general public with your
fluctuating boob size.
Lately in the past few years, you seem to have suffered a lapse of better
judgement. It started right after you broke up with Justin Timberlake.
Instead of holding your head up high like what my mother always tells me
to do if I were jilted, you seemed to be drowning your sorrows in the
arms of random men and even getting married in Vegas when you were just
22 years old and then getting it annuled 55 hours later. I thought that
would be your lowest low but you managed to surprise me with your
dalliance with K-Fed.
Right when you hooked up with him and aired your first few weeks of
marriage for everyone to see on MTV, I knew that your career has past its
prime and is moving towards a downhill trajectory. Suddenly, you have two
children, one quickly after the other and, maybe that's what you really
wanted in live. Like you repeatedly said in your interviews, "I'm country
ya'll". It doesn't get more country than that.
When you finally left that money sucking scumbag and appeared on David
Letterman looking like you had a newfound zest in life, I sat up and
thought that you were really gonna make it right again this time.
Boy was I wrong. You started hanging out and getting drunk with that
walking STD Paris Hilton without wearing any knickers, stumbling out of
clubs with your fake lashes all over the place. I believed everyone had
starting laughing at you, instead of with you. But of course, when you
brazenly shaved your head, it made us all look up. It wasn't funny
anymore. You needed help. But of course, rehab didn't work, neither did
maternal instincts.
And as I sat in my office watching you and your "comeback" in the VMAs on
youtube. I was no longer worried for you. In fact, I was sad for you,
that you have deliberately made yourself a laughing stock by slugging
around the stage in a bikini when you knew that your beer gut was going
to hang loose like a sack of old potatoes. I must admit, your song was
pretty catchy, but you opening the VMAs looking like shit, it is now
apparently clear that your music career is officially dead.
Go back to Kentucky, Texas or wherever you're from. Or get yourself into
Betty Ford, and not one of those luxury 5-star shit that Lindsay Lohan
checked herself out of after a couple of days.
Raise your kids right. Make amends with your mum and sister. Though you
may not have any business in the show business anymore, go on and live
your own life. Fire the name-dropping enablers who call themselves your
assistants just so that they can leech of you and get themselves invited
to parties. You still have a shot at becoming a decent human being. A
normal single mother of 2 who doesn't need to be harassed by
photographers everyday.
Or, get yourself into Weight Watchers, you fat fuck.
Love,
Regina
From: http://acshaph.blogspot.com/2007/09/open-letter-to-britney-
spears.html
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"-When you have to shoot, shoot, don't talk."
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