Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Blast From The Past #2

This was another post from 2007 starring Britney Spears. I was kind of obsessed with her during her trashy, rebellious period. I love the bad girls. The gossip blogs have gotten so boring now that she's been behaving herself for the past year. I live in hope for the day that she will break free from her handlers once more, shave her head again, maybe rob a bank and then shoot Kevin Federline in one of his fat sausage legs. You know she wants to.

My Crappy Weekend

Oh my God, I am so hungover today. I drank way too much red wine last night and my head is throbbing. It feels like my brain is throwing itself around my skull, trying to escape. Ugh, this is all Big Earl's fault! The only reason I got drunk was to try and blot out the events of this weekend. And to get rid of the urge to kill Earl. It didn't work in either case.

You see, ever since my helper monkey Tucksworth bit Earl's fingertip off, I have been his whipping girl. He's been punishing me by making Deelishus Diamond the Friday night headliner, while I have to work the unpopular Thursday afternoon shift. We all dread Thursdays because that's when the bus from the retirement home comes by. Those grouchy old men always complain about everything. You know, the food is bad, the drinks are too expensive, the girls were much sexier back in their day, blah, blah, blah. Plus it's not exactly lucrative. After three hours of dancing, all I had to show for it was ten dollars in quarters and nickles, which stretched my thong to my knees.

Then Earl told me he'd found a replacement for Tucksworth. I wasn't real enthused since I don't want just anyone throwing knives at me. "Is she a professional?" I asked.

"She's a great talent," he growled. "She's been dancing for years, but she's never worked the pole before. Get your ass in here early tomorrow and show her the ropes."

Well, that wasn't very inspiring news. Pole dancing is an art, you can't learn it just one afternoon, but I figured it couldn't be too bad if she was already a good dancer.
Oh, how wrong I was!

My heart sank the moment I saw her.

"Hey, y'all! My name is Britney Jean," she said to me, while chomping gum, smoking, and guzzling a Red Bull at the same time. "That's sure a cute outfit you're wearing. Want to trade clothes?"

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The new girl.

"Um...no," I said, taking a long, long look at her ripped up fishnets and grubby leather bustier. She smelled like she hadn't bathed in weeks. I glanced back at Earl, not believing he expected me to dance with this. He gave me an evil little smirk.

"Work up a lezzie type act," he ordered. "Make it a sexy!"

Britney Jean let out a loud belch. "No problemo," she said with a big smile, "I can do sexy in my sleep!"

"Okay," I sighed. "Show me a few of your moves." I wanted to see what I had to work with. It turned out to be even worse than I expected.

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First she ran around the pole in circles. WTF?

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Then she did sort of a funky chicken type move, complete with arm flapping.

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And then she kind of just stood there and pretended to hump the pole.

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When she slid to the floor in a big finish, I distinctly heard her fart.

I was speechless! This was a great dancer? All of the other girls were snickering and Joe the bartender made a loud puking noise. I cut my eyes over to Earl, expecting him to be livid. Instead, he was gazing up at her with awe. "She's fantastic!" he whispered.

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Earl, watching Britney Jean's performance.

Earl was so impressed with Britney Jean that he decided she didn't need me. In fact, he demoted me to a waitress, so I quit. How dare he treat me this way! I marched right across the street to Earl's biggest competition, "The Boobie Barn" and got hired on the spot. It's okay, I made some decent tips but I don't know if I'll be able to stand my new boss. His name is Tom and he's even weirder than Big Earl if that's possible. You won't believe the kind of freaky stuff he's into. Here's a picture of him.

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My new boss. He likes to be saluted.

The Nazi stuff creeps me out! But the good news is that he's only about five feet tall and all the girls say he's gay so I won't have to worry about him pawing me. Still, I'm angry about the Britney Jean situation. And the very worst part is that she apparently sold out the house on Saturday night. That's right! "Fans" came from miles around just to watch her "dance" and lip sync to some awful 90's tunes. What is wrong with people?


xl said...

I broke down at the Tucksworth part.

Cora said...

Pffft! I did better pole dancing on the jungle gym in elementary school!

Candy's daily Dandy said...

Britney who?

Never heard of her.

Scope said...

There's just no accounting for taste in some people.

Bill Stankus said...

I don't believe it! There's a hint in this story you were scared! You didn't do anything devious or underhanded to Britney Jean. I mean a lezzie would have been the perfect moment to expose her during an evening's act as a fraud...BTW, you seen to have a thing for short guys wearing uniforms... better watch that,you could hurt him.

Sher said...

so that's you in the background teaching Britney to dance?

diane said...

"all I had to show for it was ten dollars in quarters and nickels, which stretched my thong down to my knees"- You are bloody brilliant!

Dr Zibbs said...

When are you going to video YOUR performance?


Did nobody notice HER sausage legs?