All the news that's fit to print, right? Britney bombed big time at the MTV awards this year. Her much anticipated comeback routine was a Seconal-soaked cluster fuck on all fronts; wildly inappropriate outfit, bad weave, tired stripper dance moves, and piss-poor lipsincing culminated in a television event that will live on in True Hollywood infamy.
It was fitting that the song itself was peculiarly absent of any hook or identity so as not to distract us from this tragic act. Britney stumbled about to the pop music equivalent of white noise while a stunned and snickering audience of her peers bore sacred witness to the most tragic nosedive of an already too-tragic generation.
While watching this utterly indifferent mother of two try to dry-hump pop stardom one last time all I could think about is who would play her in the assuredly upcoming movie. Film production won't start until she's offed herself of course, these things have a circadian rhythm all their own. I'm hoping for a culmination of peppermint schnapps and prescription meds administered by an evangelist boyfriend with a penchant for shotgun murder-suicides; a grand finale of Star 80 and Fat Elvis magnitude combined.
If you haven't seen the swan-song in question these links might work, though youtube has been knocking them down as fast as they go up.
The peerless New York Post has a nice run-up to the show itself, how Britney prepared in the hours before her career demise. The human brain hasn't evolved sufficiently to evoke this quality of fiction.
Here's an older Britney, back when she was infinitely more marketable. Parents, if your children are this stupid then it is negligent to let them out of the house on their own.