Okay, I fully realize Britney Spears has two damned kids (or does she...) and probably upwards of 100 conquests, but it's still disheartening to hear these lyrics from our erstwhile pop princess:

"Ooh, ooh baby
Touch me and I come alive
I can feel you on my lips
I can feel you deep inside...

You're fillin' me up
You're fillin' me up
You're fillin' me up
You're fillin' me down
You're fillin' me up
You're fillin' me up with your love"
"Ooh, Ooh Baby," Blackout, 2007

In shocking news, there's a cut or two on this album that are almost listenable. Her producers sure are earning their money.

I didn't know it until the "Classic Rock" station here played a four-peat of Nirvana, of which I caught three songs, but Kurt Cobain would have been 40 yesterday. I mean, damn. Can you imagine that human being? Some people just aren't mean to be middle-aged in this world.

Heather Fecking Mills will be on Dancing With the Stars. Is bitch clueless about the fact that everyone in the known galaxy, including her own father, finds her completely vile? Which means, of course, that dummies will vote FOR her, to keep her on the show and up the drama quotient. Worthless, worthless, worthless. Meanwhile, I'll probably root for Ian Ziering, because Steve Sanders was such a magnificent bastard. Not that I watch the show, because I actually don't.

The latest Britney update is so not a surprise. And I'm digging the theory that K-Fed wanted those locks tested for drugs, as a salvo in the custody case. Doesn't she have hair elsewhere on her body? I mean, we know where it isn't, but I'm pretty sure she still has eyebrows, unless she's gone all The Wall on us. Remember what I said three seconds ago, about people meant to be middle-aged in this world? Sigh. Brit once wore a vaguely offensive tee shirt that said "Die young, stay pretty." She's on her way to being half right.

I had a fairly relaxing three-day weekend including dinners out, the one-year birthday party for ELOP and JCP's triplets, and lots of laundry. No blogging, and for that I say "ehhh?" But a lot of stuff happened while LJ was sleeping.

*The thought of being able to get both MLB broadcasts AND Howard is pretty tempting. Wonder how the new joint service will be combined, if the deal meets regulatory approval (and that's a big "if").

*Britney, Britney, Britney. K-Fed continues to look like the winner of this PR battle with every passing day. He is going to get custody of those boys, and it's no matter, because at this rate, Brit will join the dead-at-27 club. But she doesn't have the talent of Jimi, the pipes of Janis, or the genius of Kurt. An intervention, or SOMETHING, seems absolutely necessary. But in other news, I can't believe her head-shaving story is EVERYWHERE. The lead story on news broadcasts from the Redwood Forest down to the Rio Grande. Bitch shouldn't even be FAMOUS anymore - In The Zone came out in 2003.

*It's Mardi Gras! I'm envious of my NOLA kin, who have lovely weather and a large group of loving family members and friends with whom to celebrate. I am looking forward to a visit from the exterminator, for one. In related NOLA news, my youngest maternal-side first cousin Kruh (blathering's nickname) proposed to his lovely girlfriend, 'Ber, by hiding a ring in a piece of king cake! Laissez les bons temps rouler!

So I just heard the best description of K-Fed's little debacle on last week's Teen Choice Awards. The man, the myth, Artie Lange, called it "the direct opposite of entertaining." Hee.

The nation was collectively predisposed to hate his "live" debut of his "music," for sure, but it truly was terrible, regardless of any prejudice. He can't keep up with the rhythm, which wasn't even all that fast. It's not as though he was trying to sing the first verse of "Bombs Over Baghdad" or something. So useless.

Okay, I know every two-Brit blogger out there has already commented on last night's Dateline expose of Miss Spears. But here are my random thoughts:

* My God, the mascara.

* My God, the gum! I chew gum myself, at inappropriate times (such as church), and I'm sure she didn't want to have Cheeto-breath in front of Mr. Matt (sockless and loving it) Lauer. But I, unlike her, have mastered the art of holding it daintily between my teeth and gums without needing to chomp on it.

* Not sure if her outfit was the most appropriate or flattering. But I've seen far worse.

* Federline should have made an appearence. Bobby Brown showed up, perspiring like a whore in church to boot, to "support" Whitney back in her Dateline (20/20>?) day. It would have made the whole perfect marriage thing more believable. I thought it suspect that when talking about him, she couldn't look directly at Matt. But then again, I'm one of those cruel assholes that think Kevin isn't good enough for our pop princess. But her describing him as "simple?" Absolutely classic!

* Okay, so she is still endearing, especially when she talks about doing her own laundry, which I really would like to believe. I think she is ultimately a sweet girl who got in way over her head, had a truly traumatic breakup made all-the-worse by the press and the "Cry Me a River" video, and she spiraled out of control. But she may be on the way back up.

* Goldie Hawn?

* I wish the best for her. I really do. And if the best is with Kevin, then so be it. If the best is throwing aside one's enviable career at 24, then so be it. If she wants to continue to be an "artist," however, she needs to get back in the studio before she's simply famous for being famous. And yeah, the paparazzi needs to back the fuck off, but everyone's known that since August 1997, if not for decades.

So my husband read that BritBrit and K-Fed are fighting over what to name their unborn son. Brit's suggestion? London. Fed's suggestion? Vegas. Like that's a surprise to anyone. "Vegas Federline" leaves one destined to life as a P-I-M-P. Feckin' suh-weet!

Still not as bad as "Audio Science," I guess.