I thought her name was “Brittany”—the properly named symbolic package of the Anglican future.
Britney Spears does a great service to the Black community to help teach yet another generation of ignorant, colored, young people that broken homes and dysfunctional families are issues of white-supreme modernity instead of an ancient virus coming from a monkey in Africa.
Back in the late 1990s, some stupid, skinny, brunette kid at House of Blues of Digital worshipped Britney Spears. He used to play her music and sarcastic white-boy music that lampooned gangsta rap with a teeny-voice and folk guitar talking about smacking up “bitches.” Well, let’s hope he learned that her beloved Britney Spears is living more of a thug life than he could ever imagine. This cat actually complained to the sympathetic, frat-house managers about me playing Public Enemy, the Swindler’s Lust. Never take a Web Development job to share an office with suburban American assholes.
Britney Spears lost her custody battle (this go-round) not because her husband had a better case but because she directly disobeyed the orders of government officials. She does not understand not to fuck with people seven-or-six-degrees separated from nuclear weapons. So her experience is a very rare case of a mother “losing” so easily. Most mothers with Britney styles know how to fake it in front the judge by wearing a catholic school uniform to court or something.