Britney Spears

Brit Brit as an X-Factor judge sort of makes sense, because think of all the ad dollars from Starbucks, Frito-Lay and Taco Bell she'll bring in, and if she goes off the script that her puppet handlers will feed into her ear during the live shows, she could be entertaining. Like watching a trailer full of blond weave tracks slowly tumble down an embankment. But Demi Lovato?! Chaka Khan practically threw herself at Simon Cowell for the job and he gives it to a trick who is probably known by most of the world as, "?????????" Hell, Chaka could've pulled off her hair, dropped it into the judge's chair and it still would make a better judge than Demi Lovato. Seeing these four trollops judge a singing competition together is either going to be as awkwardly stiff as visiting your boyfriend in the mental hospital the morning after he had a nervous breakdown in a gay bar (true story) or it's going to be a glorious disaster.

Simon Cowell confirmed all the rumors at the FOX Upfronts in NYC today by officially announcing Brit Brit and Demi as Paul Abdul and Nicole Scherwhatever's replacements. Brit Brit's conservators will make $15 million from this and maybe give her a $20 a week as allowance. Demi will probably be paid in a validated parking pass and a $5 lunch voucher for the cafeteria.

In all seriousness, we shouldn't be surprised by Simon's choices, because what do you expect from a grown man who combs his hair so it looks like he's got a hairy butt on his head. I really hope John Travolta tries to fuck Simon's hair.

Here's a few pictures from Upfronts today and it's nice to see that Brit Brit still has a special way with making a $5,000 designer dress look like some shit from Rainbow.

Daddy Spears has long been the one who's in charge of stirring the pot of Velveeta grits that Brit Brit calls life, and soon her fiancé Jason Trawick will also get his own plastic ladle. Daddy Spears filed papers yesterday asking the court to add Sam Mer-LESS as one of Brit Brit's conservators. Jason will get legal control of his soon-to-be wife and Daddy Spears will remain the head bitch in charge of her money. Yeah, this doesn't sound creepy at all.

People says that it was Daddy Spears' idea to add Jason since he's going to marry the Louisiana trailer park blossom sometime soon. A source says that Jason won't get a map to the Fayva shoe box where Brit Bit keeps her fortune, but he will have control of her "well-being." A legal source type gave his professional opinion about this mess to People:

"This is a very unusual situation, because generally you don't see conservatees get married. This could be a sign that the couple's wedding is around the corner.

This is probably a compromise between Britney, her father and Trawick to get the marriage off on the right foot. Obviously, her future husband needs to have a say in her well being."

There's something Boxing Helena-ish about this shit. Marriage is already a prison sentence for your genitals (unless you're marrying Anderson Cooper and then it's a never-ending real-life dream sequence for your genitals) and now Jason Trainwreck will get to legally pull on Brit's puppet strings? There's always been something shady about that Jason trick. Jason reminds me of that sleazy husband in an episode of 48 Hours Mystery whose neighbors say that he's such a friendly man and there's no way he had anything to do with his wife's death. That bitch. I mean, you can never trust a man who would be played by Robert Patrick (aka the go-to-actor to play a creeper) in the Lifetime movie of his life.

But then again, it could be worse. If it wasn't for Daddy Spears and Jason controlling Brit, she'd probably be lip-synching out her greatest hits in the middle of an am/pm to pay for her Frapps and Adderall addiction.

Deadline Hollywood says that the rumor that Simon Cowell is trying to fill one of the empty judge's chairs on X-Factor with the Louisiana trailer park blossom is coming true. Simon wants X-Factor to rise to the top like his man tits when he inhales and so he's offered Brit Brit $10 million to join the judge's panel for the second season. Simon is looking for two lady judges to replace walking Vicodin pill Paula Abdul and Nicole Scherlyyoualreadyforgotthishosfullname.

If Brit Brit's string pullers tell her to take the money, she will be making about as much as Xtina is making for The Voice and $2 million less than JLo is making for American Idle. The Hollywood Reporter is hearing that Brit Brit's fiancé Sam Merlotte Lite is negotiating her contract and if talks aren't derailed from her insisting that they let her judge while sitting in a plastic trash can full of Frapps, the deal will be done next week. The squinting Falcor LeAnn Rimes is also talking to Simon about taking the other spot after Janet Jackson gave a thumbs down to it.

Brit Brit isn't allowed to open her mouth in public unless she says words pre-approved by her team of puppet handlers, so I'm not sure how this is going to go. Is the whole thing going to be scripted? Is there going to be a Campbell Soup can phone on the table in front of her and every time she has to say something, she'll put it to her ear and repeat the words she hears? Is she going to sit on Daddy Spears' lap and move her mouth as he imitates her voice while giving criticisms like "Aw, you're so sweet" and "Aw, that was awesome!" Please let it be the last one.

If President Obama, Congress and all the Houses quit their jobs and handed all their power over to Tony Bennett, you'd soon be able to waltz into a Duane Reade to pick up a bottle of lube (not the Pimp Mama Kris-endorsed one), a bag of hot fries, a roll of toilet paper and a box of crack rocks. At Clive Davis' pre-Grammy gala, held at the same hotel where Whitney Houston passed away, Tony said that deaths of Amy Winehouse, Michael Jackson and Whitney might have not happened if all drugs were legal. Preach it, pepaw!

"First it was Michael Jackson, then Amy Winehouse, now, the magnificent Whitney Houston. I'd like every person in this room to campaign to legalize drugs.

Let's legalize drugs like they did in Amsterdam. No one's hiding or sneaking around corners to get it. They go to a doctor to get it."

The only shit I know about Amsterdam I learned from an episode of House Hunters International, but I'm pretty sure that only weed is legal there and they still have to buy their 8-balls from a sketchy dealer with stank breath in the dark part of an alley way like the rest of us. Also, Michael Jackson died of a prescription pill overdose and it's looking like Whitney didn't take any illegal drugs before she went up to star in Heaven's remake of Sparkle with Aaliyah. It is kind of bizarre that Xanax and Valium are completely legal, yet whenever my weed man comes to visit, I have to pat him down to make sure he's not wearing a wire tap. Actually, that's not why I pat him down. I pat him down because he lets me and it's pretty much the only kind of action I get.

Anyway, Pepaw Tony means well and some of what he says sort of makes sense if you think about how many billions are spent and how many people die from the war on drugs shit. But that's some shit for a different day. I think what Tony is really trying to say is that he wants to be able to buy a damn joint wherever he goes.

Here's a few pictures from Clive Davis' gala last night and let me predict the future by typing what you're going to think in about 5 seconds: What in the name of veiny titty balls was Kim Kardashian doing there?! Call me Miss Cleo.

In order: Toni Braxton, Rita Wilson & Tom Hanks, nobody, Glamberace, Amber Rose (no comment on those Klingon brows and gremlin lips), Diana Ross, a Diana Ross wannabe and Our Lady of Perpetual Cheetos.

Brit Brit Spears posted this video the other day of SPF busting moves in her Home Goods showroom of a living room and let's just say that if any members of the Spears family should be charging $125 a ticket, it should be SPF! The best part is when SPF pushes JJ into the invisible wings for trying to upstage his ass by rolling in front of him. SPF is a one-Cheetoling show.

Brit Brit's concert understudy has been found. SPF doesn't even need to learn the lyrics to her songs. Just give him a piece of Bubble Yum to chew on and he'll look like he has better lip-synch skills than Brit Brit does. A star in the Cheetoverse has been born.

via Jezebel

Sam MerLESS (it's Saturday, leave me alone) made Brit Brit happier than a cross-eyed possum the other night when he asked her if she'd take him as her conservator-appointed husband and she flashed the shiny finger joobreeees he gave her all around Las Vegas last night. But Brit Brit's deep fried soul wasn't creaming itself over the engagement ring, it was losing it over all the cake, lollies, cake, lollies and caaaaaaaake she was presented with at her engagement party and his birthday party. Diamonds ain't a Brit Brit's best friend, granulated sugar is. Nothing turns her inside sads into inside happies like SUGAR! Brit Brit usually looks like a dead deer caught in broken headlights, but all her lights went on when they gave her cake.

You can't tell from these pictures, but Brit Brit fell so in love with that cake that she took off her diamond ring and stuffed it into the cake while asking it to be her betrothed. Then she swallowed that cake whole, pooted out the ring, slipped it back on her finger and fell back into a cloud of bloated bliss knowing that her ring was once inside her real true love. I mean, this is look the of true love.

Not only is that the look of true love, it's also the look Kim Richards makes when she tries to let out a brain and butt fart at the same time.

It looks like Brit Brit had a happy night all around. That's good she didn't let it get her down when a pack of rabid raccoons jumped her and scratched at her neck after mistaking her for a member of their rival gang. That's what she gets for doing her eyes up like a hood rat raccoon on heroin.

The ultimate act of romance will take place soon when Jason Trawick asks the judge in charge of Brit Brit's conservatorship case if they will grant him her hand in marriage as long as he promises to honor her, cherish her, obey her team of handlers and hide her meds in pizza rolls just like her daddy does. TMZ, UsWeekly and everybody else is reporting that Our Lady of Cheetos is about to become somebody's wife woman for the third time in her 30 years on Earth.

The hybrid of Sam Merlotte and a bodybuilding turtle dipped Brit Brit's sausage finger into a tub of Crisco and then slipped on an engagement ring at a private dinner for his 40th birthday last night. Daddy Spears has already taught Jason how his baby likes her Velveeta grits (that's the equivalent of giving his blessing) and now the judge just has to sign off on this shit. Brit Brit Twatted this out this morning:

OMG. Last night Jason surprised me with the one gift I've been waiting for. Can't wait to show you! SO SO SO excited!!!! Xxo

That Tweet really doesn't mean anything. Jason could've given her Slim Jim-flavored lip chap for all we know. But anyway, congrats to the future Mrs. Trainwreck. And also, congrats to the makers of the Cheetos wedding dress, the Frappuccino fountain, the Gummy Bears bouquet and also to Del Taco's fine dining catering department, because something tells me they're about to get some business.

The pat-and-peel Cracker Jack tattoos on the bargain basement Sam Merlotte!

The hot doorway dance moves (you know I love doorway dancing)!

The shower sex scene that looks like two crawdads steaming to death in a glass pot on a car-powered hot plate!

The bobbies shooting at bitches for robbing a convenience store!

The bobbies and their shit aim!

The bathroom stinking up worse than shit marinated in asparagus piss thanks to Brit Brit spraying that perfume around!

The raw emotional acting that should win several lifetime achievement Oscar Mayer awards!

Those are just some of the thoughts that jumped out of the broken toilet in my head while watching Brit Brit's video for "Criminal." If it was up to Brit Brit, the video would be 6 minutes of her reenacting Natural Born Killers with animal crackers, so this is twenty steps up from that. The only thing this is missing is a scene at the beginning of SPF in a jailbird outfit playing a Velveeta cheese flute as Officer Bit Bit looks on. (Never Forget Bit Bit.)

While chewing on a piece of Velveeta gum and holding paws with her man friend Billy Bob Merlotte, Brit Brit yawled into London today to shoot her video for Criminal before going off to Russia to put the thrill into audiences with her world-renowned mouth moving act that Lambchop ain't got shit on.

The last time Brit Brit was in the UK, Customs quarantined her Cujo weave for 6 months and it broke her medicated spirit, because her head was forced to take a weave of absence (I don't know what that means, but I really wanted to use "weave of absence" in a sentence.) But this time around, the Afghan Hound ear on the top of her head got all of its vaccinations, cleared Customs and was allowed into the country. Tanks Jeebus H Krissy!!!

And I appreciate that Brit is paying homage to the late and great Jeannie Bice by wearing a Quacker Factory buttoned t-shirt with wings (that's what Brit Brit calls it).

Looking like a young Ray Romano's failed audition for the Dustin Hoffman role in Midnight Cowboy, Lady CaCa busted into a way too long high school drama class monologue at the beginning of the MTV VMAs tonight. This shit made me wish that the MTV censors mistook Caca for Andrew Dice Clay and banned him all over again. How are you going to untuck your tuck and not bring any bulge to the stage? For once, Brit Brit's heavily medicated face said it all so I didn't have to:

Brit Brit is either wondering why she's the one with a conservator and can't even wipe her possum poon without a handler standing over her to hand her a court-appointed piece of toilet paper, or she's wondering why the Middle Eastern mechanic she huffed freon with during her gas station hopping days is on stage at the VMAs.

And here's Brit Brit with her piece Jason Trawick. Nothing takes a dude from Sam Merlotte Lite to Willard like a middle part.