Britney Spears

Reeeeejoice! There's one less Ed Hardy-wearing bag of butt plugs walking the streets! TMZ brings us the beautiful news that Brit Brit's former gas station escort is going off to the chokey. Adnan Ghalib was sentenced to 45 days behind bars for hitting a process server with his car last February. Last month, Adnan pleaded no contest to leaving the scene of an accident.

In addition to the 45 days in the clink, Adnan was placed on probation for 36 months and he must complete an anger management course as well as 45 days of hard labor. Unfortunately, the hard labor doesn't include cleaning the chunky jam out of Daddy Spears' toes.

So that's that! Now you can go back to forgetting Adnan Ghalib exists. Well, until your next bikini wax. Unfortunately, you'll think of him when your waxer asks if you want a landing strip or a baby crotch.

Image: INFDAILY.com

While us mere mortals feast on the regular-sized Cheetos, Brit Brit's royal Cheetolings nibble on majestic Cheetos from the processed foods GODS! SPF's potato-sized Cheeto is not to be confused with Cheetos Giant. That shit is child's play for SPF. Well, since he's a child, I guess that would mean it's fetus play for him.

Anyway, here's Brit Brit looking sophisticated and glamorous in the best fashions Big Lots has to offer while strolling around in Sydney, Australia with her Cheetolings and her bought-and-paid escort.

You know, upon further inspection of SPF's giant Cheeto, it looks kind of plastic. Oh Cheesus. Don't say it's a Cheeto dildo. DON'T! I would hope that Brit Brit keeps that locked up.

It didn't take long for Lady CaCa to get her Illuminati puppet paws on Brit Brit and drag her over to the dark side. Our Lady of Cheetos announced on her Twitter this morning that she's lip-synching for Satan now! I knew there was a good reason as to why that "3" song made me want to was wash my ears out with boiling water from the fiery pits of hell.

Yeah, obviously this is the work of some computer savvy kangaroo who is still sore about her bringing the bores to her Australian shows. That shifty roo! I mean, we all know Brit Brit worships the Dairy Queen, and not Satan. Although, I get the two confused all the time.

Below is Brit Brit dodging tomatoes and heads of lettuce while leaving her hotel in Melbourne yesterday with her Cheetolings and her man.

Last week, an Australian official named Crocodile DUHdee warned her citizens that they might be disappointed after spending hundreds of dollars on tickets to Brit Brit's show, because she doesn't sing live. Well, she was proven right after about 200 fans walked out of Brit Brit's show on Friday night in Perth. One disappointed audience member said the show was "boring" and "stiff." Another audience member who paid $148 for her ticket added, "It was so impersonal. She did not interact with her audience."

Popeater reports that Brit Brit' tour promoter queefed at the claims and laid all the blame on the Australian media for trying to take our little Cheetoling down. He issued this statement: "Britney is aware of all this and she's extremely upset by it. She's a human being. I'm embarrassed, with such a big international entourage here with Britney, to be part of the Australian media when I see that kind of totally inaccurate reporting."

Maybe they should print some kind of disclaimer on all tickets. But instead of warning people of the obvious (that she moves her mouth to a track), they should print this: YOU MUST BE UNDER THE INFLUENCE OF SOMETHING MIND-ALTERING BEFORE YOU ENTER THE VENUE. If those 200 people were bonged and boozed, they probably would've had the time of their lives. They also would have mistaken Brit Brit for Kim from Kath & Kim, but that would have been a very good thing.

Here's Brit Brit trolling around Australia the other day. You can tell she's got the sads, because her weepy chichis look like they could use a Kleenex, a hug and an upper.

Virginia Judge, the Minister for Fair Trading for New South Wales in Australia, has gotten on her blow horn and shouted to her fellow to think twice about dropping cash on a Brit Brit concert. Virginia, who just got back from a 15-year vacation from a Kangaroo's pouch, wants everyone to know that Our Lady of Cheetos pulls an Ashlee Simpson at all her concerts.

According to People, Virginia issued this statement: "It is Britney's 'prerogative' to lip-sync, and it is my job to make sure consumers know what they are paying for up front. Personally I would rather see a live set from a local artist, but I am sure Britney's fans will be treated to a spectacular show."

Virginia Judge went on to say that the organizers should put disclaimers on all promo materials and tickets.

Um, Viggy (Can I call you that?), let me softly tape you with the DUH stick. There's already an obvious disclaimer on Brit Brit's tickets that states she doesn't sing live. It reads: "BRITNEY SPEARS IN CONCERT."

Alien Princess RiRi is publicly speaking out for the first time about "the incident." Hey, an album ain't gonna sell itself!

RiRi told Glamour Magazine that the night after Chris Brown Ike Turnered her, she woke up as Our Lady of Cheetos. No, RiRi did not wake up yacking up Easy Mac bits and craving Frapp cake for breakfast. RiRi meant that the media had their cameras up her nostrils and reporters crawled up toilets to get to her. She said, "It has taught me so much. I felt like I went to sleep as Rihanna and woke up as Britney Spears. That was the level of media chaos that happened the next day. It was like, What, there are helicopters circling my house? There are 100 people in my cul-de-sac? What do you mean, I can’t go back home?"

In the rest of the interview with Glamour, RiRi doesn't really go into the details or throw any blame on Chris. Instead, she focuses on how she dealt with suddenly becoming one of the faces of domestic violence. Here's bits and pieces from the interview. Visit Glamour to read the whole thing.

Glamour: "You’re talking about the photo [reportedly of Rihanna’s injured face taken by police after Brown assaulted her] that was allegedly leaked by cops. You handled that so well; you kept silent in the press."

RiRi: "It was humiliating; that is not a photo you would show to anybody. I felt completely taken advantage of. I felt like people were making it into a fun topic on the Internet, and it’s my life. I was disappointed, especially when I found out the photo was [supposedly leaked by] two women."

Glamour: "If you could offer a message to the millions of young women who look up to you, what would you tell someone who found herself in a similar situation?"

RiRi: "Domestic violence is a big secret. No kid goes around and lets people know their parents fight. Teenage girls can’t tell their parents that their boyfriend beat them up. You don’t dare let your neighbor know that you fight. It’s one of the things we [women] will hide, because it’s embarrassing. My story was broadcast all over the world for people to see, and they have followed every step of my recovery. The positive thing that has come out of my situation is that people can learn from that. I want to give as much insight as I can to young women, because I feel like I represent a voice that really isn’t heard. Now I can help speak for those women."

Glamour: "I think that’s a great message. What about your new album? What’s it like?"

NOW THAT is a segue (or a SEGWAY, depending on who you talk to). RiRi is also speaking to Diane Sawyer on 20/20 this Friday, so hopefully there's awkward segues like this one. I'm counting on Diane to take us from domestic abuse to talk about umbrellas in ten seconds flat.

Here's some pictures of RiRi sashaying around NYC last night. This reminds me, V premieres tonight, right?

And here's Our Lady of Cheeto's new video for that 3 song and most of you probably won't make it to 3 seconds. I mean, fucking your right nostril with a cheese curl (not even a Cheeto) might be more sexy and exciting than this. Something tells me Brit Brit feels the same because it looks like this is her internal monologue: "1..2...3... Ahz dunno what numbah comes next... I should ask SPF... Oh who cares Ah'll just move mah mouth.... An' nowz Ah want a Frapp.... 1..2..3..."

For a video that is about threesomes, they could have at least thrown in a sexy scene between Brit, Chester Cheetah, and Little Debbie! And they also could have hooked Brit up with a weave master who doesn't only work with their feet.

If it's cold enough for Brit Brit to cover up her hooves in the hides of the Three Wolf Moon's hillbilly cousins (we never talk about them), then why isn't it cold enough for her to cover up pork rinds?! I will never understand. And I will also never understand Brit Brit's choice of boots. Homegirl must be going for some kind of record for being the owner of the largest collection of boots that not even a barefoot crackhead would wear during their darkest (and coldest) hour. Bitch thinks she's Nanook of the North. More like Nanooooo of the NEVER.

If Joan Collins was there, she would pull her hair back in a bun, carefully tie a crisp white napkin around her neck and then gracefully vomit all over Brit Brit's FUGGS.....while sticking her pinky out of course. The truth is from the knees up Brit Brit is glamorous to me. I mean, what's more glamorous than trailer park snatch cutters and a maternity camisole found in a bargain bin at Palais Royal? But Joan would flip her wig over this!

Below is 10-minutes of pure GLAMOUR from Joan's makeover show in the UK. Joan Collins is really saving the world with her advice on how to look like you've just stepped out of a Dynasty episode. Joan is right, we should all look like glamorous glamazons at all times. And we should also only respect people who are covered in satin, diamonds and sequins. If you don't have a Vaseline glow around you, then you aren't worth our time! Joan IS the truth.

And here's more pictures of Brit Brit and her Cheetolings going to the pitcher show yesterday. Save your "THAT BOY IS TOO OLD FOR THAT BINKY" comments. That's how the Spears family does it. Shit, Brit Brit was just weaned off the pacifier herself last year.

While I'm freezing my peen lips off, Brit Brit is off sunning her possum pits, stoner belly and ham hocks in Mehico, the land where Taco Bell was born (her explanation, not mine). Brit Brit spent the weekend in Cabo with her Cheetolings, Daddy Spears and her manager/clit picker Jason Trawick.

You know, this is probably the first time in history that I suggest a person pay a little visit to a hair braider on the beach. Brit needs to be Bo Derek-ed in a bad way. Seriously, that weave looks like it could be used to make some low-grade sushi they sell at Food 4 Less. Homegirl better fumigate that mop of seaweed before she goes through customs, or they will throw her ass in quarantine for the next 6-months. Hmm. That might not be so bad, though. Maybe she'll run into her old dog friend London there.

In a new biography on Our Lady of Cheetos by Steven Dennis, he lists all the fake names she uses when she checks into hotels. The names include: Ms. Alotta Warmheart, Mrs. Diana Prince, Queen of the Fairy Dance and Mrs. Abra Cadabra.

This game is fun! I bet she also uses: Mrs. Lotsa Velveeta, Ms. Rooty Tooty Fresh 'N Fruity, Miss Pussy Hangynoot, Senorita Chesterina El Torito, Princess Sevyn Elevin Frapp, Carla London (awwww never 4get), Dame Fitty One Fitty and Chitterling Timberlake. You can play this all day.

And if you ever drive by a random Super 8 Motel, stroll up to the front desk and ask for "Lord Chichi Mah Boo's room." There you'll find me!

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