FOR THE RECORD
The much anticipated Britney Spears documentary, aptly titled “For the Record”, has just concluded. I hate to say it was everything I had hoped it would be, because I wasn’t hoping for very much. Thank you MTV for not letting me down.
I have a really hard time feeling any form of pity for someone that has 300 million in the bank. Sorry, I tired but seem to be void of any form of empathy for that scenario. You can’t leave your house because people take your pictures, oh boo freaking hoo. At least when she’s using the ATM she doesn’t have to worry about getting that little receipt spit back out that says “Sorry, your fucking broke bitch.”
The entire documentary was filmed in controlled perspective to show her tortured life of not being able to get out of a car or shop without mobs of people flocking around her. My heart truly breaks. I wish we could send this to the folks down in Darfur somehow so they could see how good they really have it. At one point she started crying proclaiming to the world “I’m not happy.” She goes on to say that she has good days and bad days but has to get up and make a choice to be happy, work and focus on her career despite it all. Oh, to be famous! The troubles these people face. Good days and bad days! Why, I’ve not heard of such things. I only have good days; every morning I wake up the sun is shinning and I’m just glad to be alive. I had to roll my eyes, I said “Britney my dear, you need to join the other six billion people on this planet who get out of bed in the morning and say ‘oh fuck, this shit again.’”
Who does she think she is? Good days and bad, like it’s so unheard of! Like we cured bad days back when we came up with the Polio vaccine? I’ve been having a bad day since 1996. They don’t know what happened exactly, but some chemicals shifted around in my brain that hot summer morning of ’96 and I’ve been in bitch mode ever since.
Personally, I was just fine with crazy Britney. At least that was real. This, this crap, I don’t even know what to think. The documentary answered nothing I wanted to know. Why were you beating SUV’s with an umbrella, Brit? Which narcotics were you using to lose all that weight so fast?
The documentary opened by saying that it was composed of film captured over the past 60 days, and that no questions were off limits or left unanswered. That’s because they didn’t ask anything good. We know nothing more about Britney than we did six months or even a year ago. Nothing except that she has a new CD coming out, a new music video she’s working on and two perfumes that were promoted mercilessly throughout the documentary. It was nothing but a cheap promotion wrapped in the disguise of an in depth interview the way only MTV could do.
If you want to know what’s really been going on with Britney, send me in there. I’ll get to the bottom of that mess. “What the fuck are you crying for, shut the hell up” I’d scream as I slapped her in the face, “You want something to cry about, do you? How about we watch Christmas videos from my childhood, yeah that’s right, I’ll give you something to cry about bitch.”
- Michael
THE PROBLEM IS
I on the other hand, I really don’t know where I live. I know where I’m told that I live. You live in a state shaped like a little mitten they might say. But do I really? I’ve never been to space; I’ve never been able to look down and see it for myself. For all I know I live in a state shaped like the left side of Marlin Brando’s face. Or a spork for that matter; for all I know the entire planet is a giant cube. We don’t know; all we know is what we are told.
But then one has to ponder, what might those in power have to gain by telling us the earth was spherical when it is in fact a cube? There would have to be some logic behind deceiving the entire human race into believing the earth has merely two poles, not eight corners. But what could this reason be! It is a reason I simply cannot fathom it, but, when I discover it, you dear readers will be the first to know.
There is so much we believe that we just take at face value. America is the greatest country in the world! Is it really? I can tell you for a fact that our cheese isn’t doing much for me. I’m no connoisseur of course, never claimed to be, but judging from the list of names I feel I have more a taste for something along the lines of a Bel Lago or Bierkase; nothing like cheese that reeks of Limburger, I always say.
Serial killers tick me off, but not for traditional reasons. What really gets me going is why none of these people learn and continue to bury the bodies in the crawlspaces of their homes! It’s the first place the police are going to look. They won’t check the attic, look for secret passage ways, they’re going right for the door to the crawlspace to see if anything looks suspicious. And you darn tooting when they find a food sticking up next to the sump pump, they’re going to start asking a few questions. “Are you aware there appears to be a foot clogging the drain in your crawlspace Mr. So and So” may be the first in a long line of questions, followed by “as this home is in your name, may you happen to have a clue whom the foot in question may belong to.”
It’s only after they find the foot that they head for the fridge. If they saw nothing suspicious in the crawlspace, they may as well just let you be. But now your whole set up is going to unravel. The heads in the refrigerator, the boiling pot of eyeballs and the testicles in Ziploc baggies stowed away behind the peas in the freezer. In your mind, Mr. Serial Killer sir, this may all seem just normal routine, the glazing of buttocks in honey and the like. The law will, of course, disagree.
It just ticks me off. There is really nothing new under the sun these days, everybody copying everybody else. Where is the originality? Where is the creativity, I ask you? Even recording artist have gotten less creative, which I never thought to be possible. They’re so lazy they have completely given up copying other people’s music, now they just copy their own. I was listening to Beyonce’s new single and kept thinking that it sounded like another song I had heard before. The song I was thinking of was the last single off her previous CD which sounded exactly like the second single off her first CD. Same beat different words. Apparently she didn’t feel like wasting the time to bring in producers, she just said fuck it we’ll change the words and use the same beat. That is why I have stopped supporting much mainstream music, these singers get so big they think they can just throw out crap and people will eat it up! Well I will have you know, Beyonces of the music world, I am on a crap free diet these days. I will have you know that until you can come up with something a little more inspired than lyrics that repeatedly urge me to ‘pat [my] weave’ I will have no part in it.
I’ll give you that Alicia Keys is mostly original and talented, but I won’t buy another one of her CDs until she quits with the acting; her or Beyonce. You know, it’s called pick something and stick with it ladies. I’m not going to be a doctor, a fashion designer, a journalist, a nurse and a veterinarian all at the same time, I freaking picked one of the above. You sing you’re a singer, period. You act you’re an actor, period. I don’t want to see Beyonce when I’m at the movies and I don’t want to see Lindsey Lohan when I’m browsing at FYE. And I never want to turn on my TV and see Brooke Shields selling me a Volkswagen! I don’t know what that is all about, or who thought it was a cute idea, but it’s clearly stupid. Those commercials are the biggest waste of air space since Fox News launched in 1996.
I guess the real moral of this story is: be original, be yourself. Do what you do, then and only then, will people respect you for the person you are. It might bother people, offend people, but at the end of the day, you’re the one who has to look yourself in the mirror and live with who you are. I just haven’t figured out exactly how many drinks it would take before I can do that without cringing.
- Michael


