I mean, I will admit that I was never the biggest Britney Spears fan, but even I never knew the "Michael Vick'like" proportions of self destruction that this girl could go through. Who would have thought that reveling on the privileges of youth and scampering around half naked, distorting the perception of young girls everywhere, getting pregnant by the first skinny untalented, unintelligent punk that walks around with a smug undeserving smirk, treating marriage like a pair of Jeans you can return the next day, throwing away whatever minuscule talent you were given, while at the same time experimenting with mind altering substances in the company of anonymous friends, gratifying whatever animalistic pleasure of the flesh, pampering in the most expensive, lavish lifestyle possible, appeasing whatever whim you fancy, and finally, wallowing in the true self pity that only your crack-whore reflection in a foreign damp, dark restroom mirror can give you, will after all, really get you places.
Anyway, once an ad comes out on TV for your new album for
Target, and for the Sale price of $9.99, you realize something is hmmm...
"How do you say in your language....?"
Ah, yes, "Fucked up".
Welcome to the pages of SportsKarma Britney... Now you know that Karma really is a bitch.
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