Monthly Archives: November 2012

How To Plan The Perfect Christmas… in Four Weeks

Mistletoe and Whine

In just four short weeks, you’ll be seething with resent and unhappiness, looking at your watch every five minutes and resisting the urge to douse your family in lighter fluid and burn them alive at the thought of spending even one more agonising minute with them- because it’ll be Christmas Eve! Not that you didn’t know this already- if you have Facebook, you’ll already be privvy to multiple Christmas countdowns, an update of who, what, when and were with regards to Christmas-Tree-Putting-Uppery and a delightful rundown of how many people have watched Elf. Again.

Anyway, Christmas is a time for presents joy and being with cunts you hate people you love, and the ‘perfect Christmas’ is a long sought-after tradition that we all aspire to. No matter how much of a depressing pile of shit it is in actuality, the relentless enthusiasm by which we adorn twinkle and cheer to the season is admirable. Sort of like the Casey Anthony trial- she knew she was guilty, we knew she was guilty, but by fuck, ain’t nobody was gonna get in the way of her getting out of jail, waiting for the backlash to die down and signing herself up for ‘Celebrity Rehab’.

But with only four weeks to go and no prior preparation, should you put yourself under back-breaking pressure to achieve the ‘perfect Christmas’? Isn’t being with family enough? Shouldn’t we turn away from materialism and realise that health and happiness are the only gift we need? And isn’t is all about religion anyway?

NO! Get moving now, you lazy slaaaggg! Only 720 hours to go (if you don’t sleep- which you shouldn’t)- if you don’t deliver the perfect Christmas, you’re a bad person and deserve to get AIDs. Here are my tips to help plan the perfect Christmas… in four weeks.


Christmas is all about showing everyone how much fun you’re having, when in reality, you’re praying for the sweet release of January. Start by updating your Facebook with something smug about how ahead you are with your preparation, like, ‘Christmas Tree Done. Elf watched. New Sofa ordered from DFS in time for Christmas. Ah this is what it’s all about Lolz #HaveYourselfAMerryLittleChristmas’. Ensure you get that hashtag in there. It means you’re funny, original and ironic. Extra smug points.

Once your Facebook has been updated with a primary update, remember to ‘check yourself in’ at your local Christmas Market, take a photograph of your kids with a hot chocolate moustache and-this one is important- share any pictures on your timeline of Christmassy backdrops with messages about how Christmas is all about God. Remember not to think about God too much though, as you might forget to pack your sleeping bag for the Next 4 a.m. opening of their Boxing Day sale. Charge!


Having retrieved the boxes of Christmas decorations from the attic where you lovingly fucked them in January, start your decoration process with gusto as you untangle fairy lights from around an empty Toberone box. Laugh as you find a discarded edible tree decoration that you threw in to storage by mistake. Get pissed off after five minutes of going nowhere with the lights and settle in to watch Elf while someone else decorates. Eat the definately-toxic tree decoration, and hang your head in shame.


Today, ‘Cyber Monday’, is the busiest online shopping day of the year as we collectively scramble to buy presents in advance. Decide to hit the shops instead in an effort to beat the inevitable Amazon server-crash, armed with a fistful of cash and a shopping list filled with the names of bastards you wish were dead along with ‘Something on 3 for 2 at Boots’ written beside them. Call into the pub on your way to the shops for one Yuletide drink before the hard work starts. Before you know it, you’ve passed out and your family are carrying you home while you slur how much you hate them all.

Creepy guy wearing christmas jumper

Christmas Spirit

Christmas is made magical with spirit, so it’s time to get some. Don’t believe Hollywood– spirit is not found in giving, helping the needy and prayer- it’s actually acquired through boasting, smugness and consumerism. So bypass your local church and head straight to Asda instead, where you can fill up your trolley with tat and bump into your neighbours to tell them how much more organised you are than them. Also, make sure to define the start of the Christmas period by the first appearance of the Coca-Cola advertisement on TV. Yes, that’s right- Coca Cola, a company who steal water from thirsty developing countries to give us all cancer- yay! Holidays are coming! This was definately what people in biblical times had in mind for the celebration of Christ when they made up Jesus.


Mistletoe and Wine by Sir Cliffy on repeat for the next month- next!

Family Time

Isn’t that what Christmas all about? No, as established, it’s about presents. But family is allegedly in there somewhere. As such, make sure to spend lots of quality time with your family during the festive season. For example, you can all sit around the TV and watch Elf while you bury your head in Facebook and the kiddies spend their time weakening their sense of morality on their game consoles. Or for even more togetherness, play games like, ‘Shut the Fuck Up Before I Stab You’ and ‘I’m Having An Affair On The Side Which Is Why I’m Nicer Than Usual.’

Goodwill Towards Men

Ultimately, Christmas is a time for peace and goodwill to all. Exemplify this by scrapping in a carpark over the last box of Saxo dry-stuffing mix.

Anyway, I’m off to hit the shops. Where’s my chainsaw?

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How To Live With An Elderly Person

Inconsiderately, old people are getting older. With the average life expectancy constantly on the rise, and a third of babies born in 2012 expected to live beyond 100 years, the chances are that you will, at some point in your life, have to life with an elderly relative who relies on you for food, shelter and nursing to make their most vulnerable years as comfortable as possible.

Shit one, I know. I, too, dread the day when I have to change an adult nappy, fish dentures from a glass of watered-down tooth-batter and have to witness the look of disdain on houseguests’ faces when they decide that my home smells like ‘shit and old people’. I’m fucking dreading it with every fibre of my being.

But then I remember that I’m looking at the situation through shit-tinted spectacles and that it can’t be that bad- it just takes some creativity, know-how and a fuckload of bleach to see salvation. Here’s how to live with an elderly person.

Work It

In business, knowing your core competencies and focusing on delivering these to the best of your ability is a recipe for success. Similarly, old people have expertise in many fields advantageous to sociophobes like myself, and can afford you a life of blissful solitude. For example, when ‘trick or treaters’ call to your door on Hallowe’en, send your live-in old person to the door, armed with a walking stick and a jowlful of boring tales from when they got oranges for Christmas and fucking loved it. What’s that noise? Oh, it’s just the sound of next Hallowe’ens door-sweets investment jingling in your pocket because kids won’t be calling next year. You can finally buy yourself that hand puppet you always wanted so that you could use it to communicate your feelings without judgement. Score.

Old people have an inate ability to bore, terrify and complain- don’t delay, put them to work today. Get yours to shuffle around the supermarket with you and watch in awe as people pity you and let you go ahead of them at the checkout. Tell your spouse to do all the heavy-lifting because if anything happens to you, they’ll be responsible for wiping the arse of your live-in old person while you rejoice in your grave. And the next time your Sky box decides to shut down, get your live-in old person to ring that Mumbai-based call centre and watch as the language, age and general comprehension barrier slowly causes your disinterested and unfriendly Sky representative’s head to explode in a fit of turning-the-tables rage. Hilarious!


Having a live-in old person means you can be all kinds of cunty in your day-to-day life and no-one will give you grief because you have ‘special circumstances’. If your live-in old person is also a parent… Fucking score. Not only can you blame your immediate wankerness on your live-in old person, you can also cite them as the reason you’re also an underlying wanker with social problems. Whenever you want something, for example, the last doughnut in the box, you can passive-aggressively whisper, ‘No, it’s ok, you have it- I think I was just comfort-eating to compensate for my bad childhood in which my parents beat me to a pulp, and now insist on living with me to ensure that I’m ”kept in my place”.’ And say hello to the last doughnut. And lots more doughnuts. Metaphorically speaking, of course. And some actual doughnuts, too. Probably.

Dirty Cash

In addition to using your live-in old person for anti-social purposes, you can also use them to save money. Check your live-in old person thoroughly for defects, and utilise these to your advantage. If your live-in old person has no defects, rough them up a bit for your desired purposes. For example- can’t afford to buy yourself a fraudulent disability sticker online so that you can stick it in your car-windscreen and don’t have to walk anywhere? Accelerate the effects of your live-in old person’s arthritic hip by storing them in a cold, dark area and beating daily. Hey presto- a governmentally-issued sticker that entitles you to park in a luxurious disabled spot. Can’t afford a donkey-ride on your holiday to Blackpool? Get on your old person’s back and make them look sad and tired while you forcefeed them a carrot. Can’t afford sleeping pills? Make your live-in old person sit by your bedside and recount last night’s episode of Downton Abbey. Can’t afford to buy a machine that makes all of your clothes smell like piss and false teeth? Make your live-in old person wear all your stuff first.

Feel-Good Factor

Of course, human life is precious and if nothing else, the time you spend with your live-in old person is an opportunity to make the most of your relationship while they’re still around. You’ll miss them when they’re gone, allegedly. So take the time to enjoy it. Take lots of photographs of the two of you together- you’ll look younger and prettier by comparison. Listen to their stories- it might give you clues as to how much they’ve left you in their will. Hug them- suddenly the fact that you haven’t been to the gym in six years won’t matter because you’ll appreciate that you’re not internally decaying. Laugh with them- it’s a great disguise for laughing at them. And enjoy today- for one day, they’ll just be a distant memory.

I know, I can’t fucking wait either.

Old people: like children, but with bigger nappies.

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Where Are They Now- The Cast of The Osbournes

The Osbournes exploded on to our screens in 2002 like a pigeon merrily dumping its faeces on your car windowscreen, in that it was total shit, and no amount of wiping was going to take it away. No, those fuckers were here to stay.

My first encounter with the Osbournes in a reality-show capacity was reading a Rolling Stone article with the fame-famished family, discussing their reasons for jamming their lives forceably into MTV’s reality slot, and even then, as a 14-year old who scribed the words ‘I Luv Hanson’ into furniture, I could see that this was a bad idea. Reading that article, I wondered if one of the producers suggested it as a joke and it went from there. The emperor has no clothes, people!

Anyway, ‘rocker’ Ozzy (real name Clive), his wife Sharon, their son Jack and alleged daughter Kelly comprise the cast of the Osbournes. Eldest daughter Aimee chose not to be on screen, and for that, she’s my favourite by default. However, I expect that sharing a gene-pool with that pack of depressing cunts still makes her really unlikeable.

The four attention-seeking Osbournes ploughed on without Aimee, helping the show rise to super-popularity in it’s three-year run- although this was mostly due to the fact that people are stupid. And extremely bored. But with 7 years passing since the programme ended, where are those horrible self-promoting cunts nowadays? Did they all die a slow and painful death? Sadly, no. Here’s an update *Jazz hands.

Ozzy Osbourne

After The Osbournes ended, Ozzy bragged in an interview with BBC Radio 2 that he was ‘stoned’ during the entire filming process. Soon after, he was found to be lying about his drug-use when someone asked him for ‘a draw of his spliff’, which turned out not to be marijuana, but a ‘sweetie cigarette’, or ‘candy cigarette’ if you watch too much American TV. After this revelation, Ozzy Osbourne’s reputation as a druggie, rock rebel went down the pan, and he admitted that it was ”all pretend”. ‘I drank bottles of St. John’s Wort to make me slur my words. I didn’t even want to do the show- I only agreed because Kelly said it would be her Birthday and Christmas present. And as for that bat incident- that didn’t happen. Sharon has a load of them living in her cavernous vagina, and they’d go apeshit if I’d beheaded one. In all honesty, it was just a plastic turd with two studs on the top for ears,’ he admits.

Sharon Osbourne

Sharon Osbourne– or ‘Fuckface’ to her friends- played the long-suffering wife during The Osbournes’ heyday, and her fame has continued to rise since. Most recently, Sharon has used colon cancer to her advantage by selling every iota of her illness to the press, making her children pose with sad faces around her hospital bed for photos and probably auctioning off her test results on eBay. Now that she has a clean bill of health, what’s next for the star? ‘Well, once I finish my quest for using plastic surgery to make me an exact replica of the Joker from Batman, I’m hoping I get another potentially fatal illness to stay in the magazines!‘ she laughs terrifyingly, adding, ‘Magazine inches validate my existence, and keep me busy so I don’t have to deal with the knowledge that I’ve used my husband’s affairs and cancer to gain popularity with the public.’

Jack Osbourne

Kooky Jack may have wanted to use the show as a platform to further his own music career or whatever he kept on whining on about during the show, but we probably all remember him more for cringing at the out-of-his-league ‘girlfriends’ who were really just using him to get on TV. Since then, Jack is currently being used by another girl who is clearly out of his league, but to be fair to her, she’s earned it- having had to bear his child. In addition to becoming a father, Jack has overhauled his image, going from a chubby, frizzy-haired geek, to that semi-handsome man that works in your local coffee shop who says ‘The usual?‘ to you when you walk in, and you exchange small-talk and think nothing more of it until one dark, eerie night, he shows up at your house and says his car broke down and he thought you lived in this street, and thank god- you do!- can he use your phone to ring AA? Before you know it, you’ve let your guard down and invited him in, but suddenly, he pounces on you and wrestles you to the ground. Wrapping masking tape around your shaking arms, he whispers in your ear, ‘Not so special now, bitch!‘ and tapes your mouth. After two weeks of torture you’re running out of air and, stuck in his car boot, you can feel your heart pumping wearily as you pray that the search party find you before you die of thirst. Yeah, he’s that guy.

Kelly Osbourne

Smelly Kelly has arguably made the biggest transition from her MTV persona, going from nerdy outsider to bitchy popular clique-leader who gets off on making other people cry. After dropping the weight-equivalent of a medium-sized dwarf (although her head-size has unfortunately remained intact), Kelly felt that people accepted her more and started embracing herself as a quirky socialite with a dark past, being employed as someone who critiques the appearances of others for the E! network while looking like a fucking dog’s dinner herself, and throwing in that she ‘used to be fat so she knows what it’s like’, as if it’s a justification for causing someone else’s eating disorder. Surprisingly, Kelly is the most family-oriented of the Osbournes, and regularly enjoys turd-bat fashioning with her dad, sad face cancer-posing with her mum, and making sure the crime scene is bleached and the body disposed of with beloved brother Jack.

Keep living the dream, Osbournes!

You cunts.

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How To Deal With A Cheater

Ok, so you’ve fallen in love, moved in together, started to settle down and braced yourself for a long, bleak life set amidst a festering mutual resentment for zapping the life out of each other. That’s usually it. But if your partner throws a spanner in the works by having an affair- how do you deal with that?

Relationships have the ability to make you extremely happy, or extremely miserable. And if your partner serves you a massive slice of shit pie by cheating on you behind your back- well, that’s just unforgivable.

Or is it? Each relationship is different. So are the circumstances. And the fact that your partner has cheated may not change your feelings for them. With that in mind, it’s impossible to give advice on the subject that is universally true for every relationship. But fuck it- I’m a huge, hypocrital bastard anyway. Here’s ‘How To Deal With a Cheating Partner’.

Jeremy Kyle

If suspicions arise that your partner is playing away, be sensible. Ring Jezza and book your slot for the next show entitled ‘Cheating Bastard Scum Fuckbags’, and tell your partner you’re whisking him away on a romantic trip to London. Do not tell him you’re going on Jeremy Kyle. Then sit there while the problem festers for weeks on end, not confronting it head-on like a normal adult should, waiting for the producers to take a break from playing Foxy Bingo online to give you an appearance date. Before going on the show, knock out all of your teeth and put on your threadbeariest Adidas tracksuit- it’s the dresscode.


When Jeremy Kyle gets your partner to admit his infidelity by doing that sanctimonious thing where he sits down on the stage steps to level with the both of you, slowly shouting ‘For God’s sake, be a man! She’s at home every night looking after your baby and you’re too selfish to stop courting your bleeding bit on the side!’ then it’s time to head home and pick up the pieces. Do this by seething silently for weeks on end. Say things without saying anything by sighing loudly, pretending to read magazines but just angrily turning the pages and pissing the bed ”because you’re traumatised”.

Listen To Your Heart

After weeks of misery for all involved have elapsed, approach your partner and inform him that you are ready to listen to his side of the story. Get yourself ready to hear a few home truths. Being drunk will considerably ease the pain, so ensure you’re too drunk to stand before they start speaking. Then, being drunk, use the conversation to weep helplessly and say things like ‘Fugggggg off, ya bastid. This were you’re fault, not mine. I’m a fuckin’ saint. Cha-mone.’ Do a few animal noises, too, because when you’re that drunk, making animal noises always seems like a good idea. Miaow.

Don’t Get Mad

Get even. Even though your partner assures you that the person they cheated with didn’t know you existed- and therefore isn’t to blame for your partner’s bad decisions- you should grab your car keys and drive drunkenly round to that hoe’s house, pull up on her garden and throw that empty vodka bottle in your hand through her window. When she comes out of the house, shout, ‘How do you like me now, motherfucker?’ until the police cart you away for a lonely night in the cells.

On The Mend

When your partner bails you out the following morning, you should be ready to talk. Listen to your partner’s reasoning, it will give you clues as to why he cheated in the first place. If you’re married, you can start destroying everything he loves now, under the guise of ‘mending your relationship’, such as banning him from socialising with anyone and mentally abusing him. If you aren’t married, wait until you have that ring on your finger before showing your true colours. And nod along to his justification monologue like a serial killer disguised as a faithful Springer Spaniel.

Moving On

Going forward, if you choose to remain in a relationship with your partner, you need to put this mishap behind you. For me, this includes bringing it up at every possible interval, picking a fight about it at any given time, and throwing it back in his face relentlessly. Make sure you get hysterical enough in public about it that strangers will be compelled to come up to you and ask if ”that man is bothering you”.

If you choose not to stay with your partner as you cannot forgive his betrayal, then you should cut off all contact to allow yourself to focus on moving forward, not backwards.

But without someone to threaten to castrate in the dead of night when they least expect it, where’s the fun in that?

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Exercise Move of the Month- Going Shopping In Your Pyjamas

Last week, after a lifetime of turning my nose up at other people for doing so, I went to the shop in my pyjamas. It wasn’t what I was expecting it to be- having spent my life worrying about the opinions of others, doing something so depressingly tramp-like made me feel drunk with freedom. Now I’m worried that once I’ve went slack, I’ll never go back. To dressing like a proper person, or humanity.

Anyways, this month’s exercise move is brought to you by both Kerry Katona and grim frozen-food chain, Iceland, and is called ‘Going Shopping in Your Pyjamas’. It comprises cardiovascular activity, and a hefty core workout as you desperately try to find your soul buried somewhere underneath those layers of scum.

Step 1

After warming up your body by watching Jeremy Kyle USA and chain smoking, peel yourself from the sofa. Immediately, you should start to feel the burn in your legs as you bend to lift the copy of TV Quick that fell off your lap as you got up. Tone those legs as you karate-kick your Homer Simpson face slippers that you bought in the Debenhams January Sale ’98 off your feet, and slip into a version of non-brandname Crocs.

Step 2

Work those biceps as you toss some fake tan on your face, ensuring you smear it all down the neckline of your pyjamas to make sure you look super-unclean. Star-jump towards the door and off you go. If you want to really tone those arms, lift a box of cigarettes and your lighter on your way out, and swing your arms as you walk to really get the most from your workout.

Step 3

Arrive at your local supermarket, ensuring that, having decided to travel the four-minute journey by car, you park over two disabled parking bays. Alight your car and feel the burn in your cheeks as others look at you judgementally for being a total dick. Push those pelvic muscles to the limit as you do the obligatory ‘pretending to have a gammy leg’ routine, and push through that shame-sweat by lighting up a cigarette and trying not to cry.

Step 4

Here’s where your cardio really begins. Enter the supermarket, walking round at a leisurely pace, ensure you block off entire aisles with your shopping trolley. Use your trolley’s force against you, maximising your workout by stocking up on Findus Crispy Pancakes and Potnoodles to eat at Bingo. Strengthen those neck muscles by scowling at anyone who looks at you with disgust.

Step 5

Loading the contents of your trolley into your car, do 20 repetitions of arm curls as you chain-smoke as much as possible. Driving off, work out your core as you give onlookers a big snarl-face, and when overhearing a child squealing, ‘Mummy, look- a fully grown woman in her pyjamas! In public!‘, strenghten your core by giving him the finger, and shouting, ‘There’s no Santa!‘.

Step 6

With all that cardiovascular activity of walking at a snail’s pace around your local Asda, you’ve burnt off five calories. Work out your forehead muscles as you look confused while you decide whether you should treat yourself to some McNuggets or a Big Mac Meal with extra lard. After working out your forehead muscles, you opt for both.

Step 7

Park and eat your food. Push yourself like a warrior after realising they forgot the extra sauce you asked for, meaning you have to actually walk into the store to get it yourself. Feel the fat just melt away as you sweat with the embarrassment of hearing people snigger at you and film your pyjama-clad sauce-seeking with their phones. Bastards.

Step 8

Work out those obliques as you climb back into your car and drive home, just in time for Loose Women.

Step 9

Finish strong as you propel your shopping into the kitchen, grabbing a copy of The Sun to mull over and eventually use as an ashtray. Feel the burn in your lungs as you use your cigarette smoke to edge closer to an untimely cancerous death. Eventually, take your heart down to resting level by sitting down and watching an old episode of Coach Trip.

And, rest! Great workout, everyone.

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Ten Things You Never Knew About… Britney Spears

Razzle dazzle mime artist, Britney Spears has captured our hearts since she burst on to the pop scene with her American dream facade, darkened with a suspected-incestual past and a fuckload of brown lipstick.

Since then, Britney’s personal life has played out in front of our very eyes to the backdrop of her hit catalogue of songs, the subject matter of which is usually something to do with how people are always telling her what to do. I say, let her write her own fucking songs and we’ll all have a good laugh at that instead. It’d be an endless monologue of how great lollipops are from the perspective of a child prostitute.

Anyways, we are constantly bombarded with the daily happenings of the current X Factor USA judge- but what do we not know about her? Here’s Ten Things You Never Knew About… Britney Spears.

1. Contrary to popular belief, Britney Spears was not born in Hickville, USA. She was actually created in a laboratory in Russia– her makers fused together Kelly from Married With Children’s personality, 80s popstar Tiffany’s charisma, and the lying-in-bed-at-night-thought-train of serial killer Aileen Wuornos, in an experiment that went ”horribly wrong”.

2. After being adopted by a bunch of rednecks, Britney spent the majority of her early childhood living in a trailer and being jealous of Jon Benet Ramsey for being both a child pageant queen and dead.

3. Before Britney had even hit puberty, she had already become a familiar face on redneck television, advertising products such as cheese-flavoured butter and ham shaped like a foetus. Foetus ham was such a success that 8-year old Britney bought herself a boob-job.

4. By her sixteenth birthday, Britney secured herself a record deal and was in the process of campaigning for her first release to be a mash-up of the theme song off ‘You’ve Been Framed’ and Christian nursery school favourite, ‘Zachaeus Was A Greedy Little Man’. Against her wishes, ‘Baby One More Time’ was released.

5. Even though Britney had little control over her debut song, she was heavily involved with the conceptualisation of the music video, suggesting herself that she ‘dressed as a sexy secretary, sexy nun, sexy schoolgirl or just a general slag, and gyrated around the room for a bit’. The video was a hit worldwide, especially in Japan where sleazy old men are known to be extra-creepy.

6. But Britney wanted the world to know that she is more than just a pretty face. ‘I also have a dog called Teapot that went to live on a farm’, she says robotically.

7. With a string of hits under her non-trouser-holding-up belt, Britney took a break in 2004 to focus on her personal life. And a right fuck up she made of it, too, after meeting once-husband Kevin Federline. ‘I met him in my garden, where he slept for several weeks, waiting for the right moment to introduce himself, impregnate me and bleed me dry. Britney laughs fondly. Oh, wait, I wasn’t supposed to read that bit, I was just supposed to laugh, wasn’t I?’, reads Britney from a page given to her by some corporate drone capitalising on her nervous breakdown.

8. At the height of her fame, Britney earned $1200 per minute. Well, her record label did. Britney’s share was a packet of Haribo, a second-hand Barbie doll, a box of smokes, a DVD boxset of Look Who’s Talking and a near-expired coupon for 25% off a tin of Foetus Ham.

9. Having lived through the hell of a nervous breakdown, two failed marriages, public humiliation and endless court battles, Britney is, gladly, on the mend- and looking for new business opportunities. Her latest endorsement is an interactive board game where men compete to see how many women’s drinks they can spike, before sexually assaulting them in nightclubs. ‘I call it ‘Minge Binge’, and soon, it’ll be in a nightclub near you,‘ Britney smiles shakily while doing the robot on a lighty-uppy disco floor.

10. With all the craziness behind her, Britney is looking forward to a bright future with her two sons and latest fiance, Jason Trawick. ‘The tabloids make him sound like another sponger, but he pairs jeans with suit blazers. And he wears glasses. So he must be casual but firm. With a softer, intelligent side. Britney will be alright. Don’t worry about her,’ she was told to say by Jason.

Well, that’s it for another month, folks. And thanks to Britney for being so hilarious. And for the song version of a Deepest Sympathy Regarding The Death of Your Cat card shaped like a tampon, I’m Not A Girl, Not Yet A Woman. It just does not get better than that…

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