It’s Britney, bitch.

3 Feb

There are several words one could use to describe Britney Spears’ performance at the VMA’s tonight, but I think the most appropriate ones include “sad, humiliating, pathetic, nauseating, perplexing,” and overall just troublesome. Then again, words alone cannot accurately describe the horror that was Britney Spears’ opening performance. In a blatantly obvious lip sync to her newest release “Gimme More,” Britney did little more than aimlessly move about the stage making random hip thrusts that were anything but rhythmic. I don’t think she even tried to make it look like she was actually singing. Her lip syncing was more distracting that Enrique Iglesias’ unsightly mole; she hardly moved her lips at all.

She looked lost. She just looked drugged, confused, and lost, like a disoriented drunk at 4 a.m. in downtown Iowa City. And her hair? Are you serious? My hair looked like that in fifth grade when I didn’t know Revlon Hot Tools existed; parted directly down the middle, with that awkward wavy thing going on that happens when you let it dry on its own—plus, the two inches of her real hair was a different color from her weave, which by the way looked like it came directly off of a homeless Barbie’s head. Who had her in hair and makeup? They should be fired. Immediately. Possibly shot. I personally would have appreciated her wearing more clothing, too. She’s no Jessica Alba, and pilates wouldn’t hurt.

Painful and lifeless performance put aside, the song itself is a flop. Literally the only lyrics are “gimme more, gimme more,” sometimes mixing it up with “gimme more, ‘gimme-gimme’ more.” Give you more what? More vicadin? More custodial rights? Give me more Pepto Bismol, because I’m about to projectile vomit. You’re nauseating.

I really enjoyed watching the crowd’s reaction after the painful 3 minute horror show ended. Everyone stared wide-eyed with a “I just watched a woman give birth in health class” look of horror on their faces, followed by a hesitant, half-hearted charity clap. Everyone feels bad. Everybody just feels bad for Britney Spears. Britney, you don’t have it anymore. You just don’t. You don’t have your career, you don’t have your physique—you don’t even have your kids. It’s time to throw in the towel. Be the bigger person, and let it go. It’s over.

Having Britney Spears open for the VMA’s was like having a bearded lady as the main attraction to the circus. Of course it got a lot of hype, and everyone was interested in watching: it was a guaranteed freak show. It’s a damn good thing the event is taking place in Vegas; at least everyone’s drunk, Britney included.

I think the only way she could have improved her performance would have been by adding 200 more back-up dancers, and hundreds of thousands of watts worth of blinding lights, in hopes that people would be more distracted, diverting some of the attention away from Britney herself.

I also think Sarah Silverman could have done more to push her over the edge and destroy what little desire to live Spears has left. She gave Paris the beat down last year, but at least Paris has got her shit together. I don’t see Miss Hilton assaulting SUVs with umbrellas, hurling baby bottles at the paparazzi, marrying K-Fed or shaving her noggin. Go ahead, slap Spears around a bit. A little verbal assault never hurt anyone.

Except for the kids who grow up to bomb schools.

The bottom line is, the only person that doesn’t realize that Britney Spears has no future left is Britney Spears. Someone send her a letter and tell her. Now.

On the other hand, Justin Timberlake is literally the sexiest man on planet earth. I would bang him like a screen door in a hurricane.

In front of my grandparents.

Seriously, there are so many things I want to do to that man, and a lot of them involve chocolate syrup. Justin, call me.

“It’s Britney, bitch!”


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