Dear Britney Spears,
I’m writing to you to tell you no matter what you do, I’ll always love you. I don’t care if you get fat, bald, pregnant, anorexic, brunette-ed, brain-fried, intoxicated, drugged-out, or over-partied—I’ll remain faithful to you. I thought I’d out grow you as I did so many other 13-year old vices: The brand Junco, Airheads candy, and Pogs, but clearly that’s not the case. If you decide to have another kid, or another nervous breakdown, I’ll wait for you. I promise I won’t download Cristina Aquilera’s albums or any other perky-breasted pop star. F Miley Cyrus —you are the pop princess.
Your new album is both inspiring and uplifting. Your lyrics have grown up as have we—I especially like your upbeat hit “Mmm Papi”, urging women to love their baby’s daddy because they are lovers, as evidenced by said baby, and “Blur”, which I think is a warning to girls to avoid one-night stands because they’ll regret them. All valid points. Britney, you put a beat to the inner monologue in my mind. Thanks to your songs, I’m sure I’ll lose 5 pounds because I can’t get off the treadmill until I’ve listened to your entire album. Circus has given new meaning to my life.
I’m hesitant to say you’re really “back”, judging by tabloid news you still seem to be a real nut job unstable, but I don’t care. You’ve never left, as far as I’m concerned.
Your oldest biggest fan,
Erin E
