I don’t care that she has two kids.
I don’t care that she’s addicted to…something.
I don’t care that she’s addicted to, well, a lot of things, most likely.
I don’t care if her and Tommy Lee both have a song by the same name: “Get Naked.”
I don’t care that her version isn’t accompanied by a music video with a strategically placed remote control.
I don’t care if the chorus of “Ooh Ooh Baby” is just her repeating the phrase, “you’re feeling me up.”
I don’t care if the album is laden with heavy effects and intense moaning.
I don’t care that Blackout is what having sex with robots probably sounds like.
I don’t care how god-awful her ratty extensions are.
I don’t care how uncomfortable the “Gimme More” video made me feel when I watched it in a conference room during a Sony BMG meeting.
All that matters is that Britney’s new album kinda makes me want to dance like I work at The Silver Bullet. After all, It’s Britney, Bitc— well, you know where I’m going with that.
Carlye Wisel: if sarah silverman, stacy london, buster bluth and ari gold had a love child, it would be me.
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