Our Lady of Cheetos almost dropped one of her Cheetolings on his head in the middle of the street and she locked another one up in the bathroom during a psychotic breakdown, so I think it's safe to say that Child Protective Services has her address permanently stored in their GPS systems and a week doesn't go by when they don't poke her on Facebook.
However, when Daddy Spears and KFed stepped in to make sure she stops letting her boys chew on silica gel packets ("It soothes them in tha nerves," said Brit Brit), CPS backed down a bit. But now CPS is back to knocking on the front door of their old friend's house. The Sun reports that CPS wants to talk to Brit Brit about allegations from her former bodyguard Fernando Flores that she beat SPF and JJ with a belt and also fed them shit they are allergic to. FYI: This former bodyguard is also the same former bodyguard who threatened to sue Brit Brit after he claims she sexually harassed him by flashing her dry roasted clitterling at him.
A source tells The Sun all about Fernando's allegations, "Britney doesn't mean to be a bad mum. But Flores feels she has so many issues she can't be trusted around her boys. He claims the first really shocking incident was when she came marching into the pool house at her mansion and demanded his belt. He handed it over but then followed her into the main house and claims he witnessed the alleged incident."
Fernando also claims that one of the boys is deathly allergic to shellfish (no Velveeta scrimp casserole for him), but he watched Brit Brit feed it to him. Fernando claims this shit went down in March and April.
Fernando needs to come at Brit Brit harder, because if he was so concerned with the well being of her chirruns why did he wait so long to report her ass to CPS (before placing a call to The Sun, of course)? And his big shocking child abuse allegations is that Brit Brit whipped her boys with a belt once? Fernando is really trying to sit there and act like his abuelita never pulled him by the ear to her closet and told him to pick out which belt he wanted her to use on him?! Really?
And since we're on that subject, how come your abuelita would still grab the thickest leather belt in her closet even when you pointed at the satin sash belt? Why make me pick then?!
A while ago, Daddy Spears rounded up all of Brit Brit's bodyguards for grits and Velveeta fondue to let them know that they not only had to make sure she didn't go all 5150 in public, but one of their new duties is to not let her leave the house without putting a coat over her bald squirrel. Basically, Daddy Spears want them to do a chonies check before she cross the front door.
Well, one of her former bodyguards, Fernando Flores, says that when the paparazzi got pictures of Brit Brit's crotch rinds glistening in the sun, he's the one who took the fall. Fernando also says that he was sexually harassed by Our Lady of Cheetos. And now he wants to sue!
The Sun says that Fernando is telling friends that Brit Brit would regularly walk around nekkid ass nekkid and even tried to lure him into her bedroom so that he could ride her like a plastic pig in front of Piggly Wiggly.
A source explains, "She was always giving him the come on and he felt if he didn't reciprocate he could lose his job. He finally handed in his notice last week and is considering legal action. Working for Britney is tough. She's a nightmare to deal with and her emotions are totally out of control. She runs round the house naked and yelling at staff. All her guards knew they could be removed if they looked at her the wrong way. Unfortunately for Fernando, she took a liking to him, so he was under more pressure than most. He wanted to be a good security guard and look after her but the situation became unbearable."
Now I'm not saying that Brit Brit has the right to force one of her employees to spread his gravy all over her deflated biscuits, but everybody knows that bitch is crazy! If you go up to any random person in any part of the world and ask them what crazy is, you know they will start humming "Hit Me Baby One More Time." This is from the school of truths! So when you sign up to work for Brit Brit, you should be surprised if she isn't shuffling around naked like Nell in the forest. Cheeto, Cheeto, Cheetobee...
By the way, Brit Brit's nipples are sexually harassing all of us in that picture. Class action lawsuit alert!
Since pretending to date Our Lady of Cheetos is embarrassing enough, her boyfriend Jason Trawick has turned in his resignation letter as her main TV agent. Jason had to write his resignation in horsey sauce on the back of an Arby's sandwich wrapper so Brit Brit would pay attention it. And she did so now Jason is strictly nibbling on Brit Brit's Double Down and nothing more.
Brit Brit's spokeswhore tells People: "The two have decided to end their professional relationship and focus on their personal relationship. Since wrapping her recent world tour, Spears has been busy in the studio working on her next album."
This is for the best. The last thing Jason needs to hear while he's picking Brit Brit's weave gnats out of his nostrils in bed is her whining about how he should get her a role on Mama's Family. Jason won't dare tell Brit Brit that Mama's Family is dead, because then she won't ever get out of her hamburger bed again.
Lady Caca originally wrote "Telephone" for Our Lady of Cheetos, but she passed on it because her camp decided it would be weird for her to be singing about telephones when she can't even use one without getting written permission from her Daddy Spears first. Good move. But before Brit Brit call blocked "Telephone", she recorded a demo. Apparently, someone bought the demo for $750 from iLeaks. There's a little debate as to whether this real.
Even T-Pain is making the sign of the cross at this auto-tuned mess, so it could really be anyone. It could be Brit Brit, R2D2, a robot dog meowing into a fan, Lady Caca's peen while suffering from laryngitis or the dude on my computer who tells me when a file is "finished downloading." Probably the latter.
But the real story here is who in the hell paid $750 for THIS?! They could have bought Brit a priest to exorcise the beast on top of her head, a custom made Cheeto bra or a day supply of Frapps. Although, I should really go sit in the corner with the bitch who bought this, because I'm currently looking at a pair of autographed lucite heels from Shauna Sand that I got on eBay for the price of a round of cocktails. But in my defense, I had to buy those exquisite lucite heels since it's part of my religion.
Daddy Spears is sick of seeing picture after picture of Brit Brit's nomadic nipples out and about, so he has enforced a strict "must wear bra in public" policy on her. Daddy is basically dropping a 5150 on her Cheeto nips. Why can't Daddy Spears just let Brit's nipples be great?
According to The Sun, Daddy Spears has threatened the bodyguard who has stood by time after time and let his daughter be photographed without her nipples covered up. A source says, "Jamie's control over Britney's life is incredible. He hates the pictures of her with her nipples all over the place so he has banned her from leaving the house without a bra. He wants her to put across the right impression. One security guard was told he is close to getting fired because he lets her go out without her bra."
Daddy Spears needs to worry about the lumps in the grits and not the lumps on Brit Brit's chichis. Who really cares if Brit Brit is strapping her nipples down or not. Yes, her nipples attract hungry mammals of all sizes who think she's smuggling nuts or pepperonis, but that's on her if a baboon (aka Michael Lohan) bites at her teta. And yes, her nipples ruin most of her shirts by constantly spitting out pork rind grease, but again, that's her problem. Free Brit Brit's nipples!
The Daily Mail claims Brit Brit released two Candies pictures of her before and after being rolled through Photoshop, so that her fans know that she naturally doesn't look like she's been dipped in wax and slathered with chitlin grease. Um, okay, but we've all seen the Louisiana trailer park flower in her beautiful and natural state.
The Daily Mail was nice enough to point all the changes Candies made to Brit Brit's body. Although, they didn't mention the fact that Candies scared away Brit Brit's camel toe:
That's a travesty. Why do they have to hate on camel toes like that? Brit's camel toe probably got the sads and shuffled off to a place where it is wanted: Coco's crotch. It's better off.
Brit Brit Spears hit Rodeo Drive yesterday looking like the breakout star of The Real Housewives of the Sweetgum Trailer Park Community who regularly waters the plastic flowers outside of her double wide while wearing the dress from her third wedding. The gas station-bought Sally Jesse Raphael glasses are a nice touch. Basically, what I'm trying to say is that Brit Brit is the epitome of opulence. As usual.
And obviously, this girl agrees with me:
My ass feels the way Brit Brit's weave looks. I'm sick! And I'm not talking about being sick in the head (that goes without saying). I think I caught the damn plague over the weekend. I'm not sure how this happened since I followed my abuelita's advice and used Purell as lube with all my one-night fucks. My nose is leaking more than Bombshell McGee's cooch while reading Mein Kampf. So because I've got the temporary sicks, I've been forced (YES, FORCED) to down every kind of over-the-counter med on the market. If I start rambling more than usual, just throw a towel over my head and pay me no mind. Now on to more important business!
This precious portrait of Our Lady of Cheetos outside of a restaurant is soothing me a bit. I just want to print out hundreds of copies of it, runs down to the Hallmark Store and stick this picture in every single frame so the public at large can see what true beauty really is. I'll have to add that to my cum bucket list.
Here we have Brit Brit spears visiting one of the old haunts she used to frequent during her Pink Wig Days while looking Monster Truck Rally fresh. Brit Brit just popped on in to say "Hi ya'll" to her old friends and pick up her daily dose of Vitamin C. Yes, Fanta counts as Vitamin C. Check the food chart of any Burger King or Walmart.
In other Cheetos news, that Ke$ha creature is trying to suck the bubbles out of Brit Brit's Fanta in one of her new songs. Below is Ke$ha's song "Styrofoam" where spits in Brit Brit's sea weave by saying that Our Lady of Cheetos won't be relevant in 10 years. If you care to listen, skip to the 2:12 mark. Spare your ears the agony and don't listen to the whole thing.
If Ke$ha's lucky, in ten years time she'll be performing/judging/working at a hot dog eating contest in the parking lot of a Wienerschnitzel in Branson, MO. Although, it's highly likely that Brit Brit will be the headliner of that event. And it's even more likely that I'll be sitting on a Hoveround in the audience while wearing a three sizes too small "Hit Me Baby One More Time" t-shirt that barely covers my fupa. But until then, Ke$ha needs to stick a Cisco bottle in her yack trap and shut up.
Yesterday, there was a rumor going around that Brit Brit and her boyfriend Sam Merlotte Lite were no longer playing hide the skin Cheeto together. Well, here they looking happier than Jessica Simpson's dentist while shopping for useless crap her kids are going to chew on in Beverly Hills yesterday.
Even though Princess Dollar Menu of McDonaldland is looking like Daddy Spears snuck a vegetable into her cheese grits, she is wearing a bra. So that's a positive, right? And because she looks so fucking miserable holding that old man's hand (I'm sure that's what she calls him), I won't even mention her 5-day-old "walk of shame" make-up.