You know it’s a rough time in Britney World when Suge Knight expresses sympathy. “Any time a woman lose they kids it’s a sad, sad story,” the Death Row man recently declared. “If I need to do something for her, I definitely push with her.” Even Suge’s gangsta heart has been touched by the Britkitten’s travails. She’s been accused of binge tanning, asthma-inhaler abuse, stall-hopping and generally threatening Hollywood with a good time. Her ex-bodyguard hinted at her taste for the booger sugar as well as vanilla lattes. The Man would have us believe Britney has questionable child-raising habits, evidenced by the fact that they have rotting teeth, follow no sleep schedule and have learned no English other than, “Freshen up Mommy’s daiquiri, honey.”
Is Britney getting a raw deal? Of course she is! It’s Britney, bitch! For those of us who adore her, it sucks to have to keep saying, “She’s acting out” or “You mean the bad kind of atrocity?” We could all do without that. Especially Brit herself, since she remains one of the world’s most popular and beloved starlets, and she’d be even more popular and beloved if she only had the self-preservation instincts the good Lord gave a squirrel. Surprise, “Gimme More” is an actual hit, her first since “My Prerogative” three years ago. At Number Three, it’s her highestcharting single since “. . . Baby One More Time.” That song turned Britney into the world’s symbol of pop music, and she’s still that symbol, despite her grueling schedule of party-tard meltdowns. Admittedly, that’s partly a sign of how puny the pop-charts game has gotten since the Britney-Backstreet boom days of 1999. But it’s also a sign that she’s still famous just because people like her. Ever see the Celebrity Eye Candy where she sends the paparazzi to fetch her coffee while she waits in the car (“Would y’all get me a Starbucks”)? Sounds dumb, but the guy does it. He can’t help it; neither can the rest of us.
But whoever gets hired to follow this chick around with the Xanax pellet gun has gotten trigger-happy. It’s crazy to see Fat Tony, her security guy of two months, back Kevin Federline. Although his revelations have been amazing, like Britney ordering him not to sweat in front of her, or her speaking to the kids in a “weird, madeup language,” which probably just means “ass-pay the owl-bay.”
Remember the Dateline special from last year, the one everybody thought was so shocking? Watch it again, and marvel at how innocent Britney’s crisis-cultivating was back then. Matt Lauer was upset, because why? She drove with the child seat facing the wrong way. Serious? That shit wouldn’t make the Top Forty of Britney Crazy today, not after divorce, rehab, baldness, vulvabrandishing and borrowing Sean’s pacifi er in front of the cameras. She’s not letting her spotlight get hogged by that prison-bitch Paris or rehab-husband-stealing Lindsay. Yet it’s touching to see her get an inspirational communique from Lindsay, who was photographed in rehab with a HELLO MY NAME IS sticker slapped on her ass, with the name written in as “Sober Fun!” I like to think of this as Lindsay’s secretly coded message of support to Britney, like Morse code tapped by a prisoner. Or maybe Lindsay’s idea of a good time really is sober fun. But Britney and Lindsay are like Sean and Jayden: Nobody else can know what they went through. They better be nice to each other, because nobody else will ever understand them.