britney, my darling meth lab baby

oh how i remember you springing into my life. with your ‘hit me baby one more time video.’ you were so innocent and fun. maybe a little naughty, but in a good way. you were the girl next door. i remember the memories like they were yesterday. driving around with jerry guthrie to walmart to buy a $5 poster of you for my friend will bardini for his birthday because that is all he wanted. i remember boldly standing next to my friend chris jahnke as he defended you in front of 10+ girls our senior year. they were accusing you of being ugly and talentless. we spent so much time arguing about your looks that we thankfully couldn’t debate the second point. i remember receiving a dvd for my birthday from my roommates. it was a collection of all your videos. i remember watching that pepsi commercial over and over. i remember going with my friend dave axelgard to the video store and renting 'crossroads.' sure, it wasnt the greatest movie of all time, we knew you couldn’t act, but we really wanted to support you, our friend next door, in all your endeavors.

but apparently, the house you were living in next door turned out to be a meth lab. slowly things began to change. i should have noticed all the signs, but im a little slow sometimes. and perhaps i was in chosen denial. plus, like any meth lab, you looked so good on the outside, without any indication of what was happening inside. granted, your songs did stink, but not much worse than before. but you were just deteriorating on the inside. you randomly married a friend in vegas. a little strange, but you annulled it and i was fine overlooking it. there was still hope for us. plus, we all make mistakes.

but then there was k-fed. (him?) this is when the drugs were really kicking in. k-fed? the guy is an idiot. seriously, his IQ tested just barely below a three-toed sloth and right above this guy (the uncle in the video, not the kids). i hardly know you anymore. i was hoping that this was just another blip or mistake, that you really weren’t a product of the meth house, but then you reproduced with the sloth. twice. you and k-fizzle. and you started to not look as good. you couldn’t even hide it on the outside anymore. and then there was the partying and scandalous behavior. then there was the rehab. then out of rehab. then back in. then the suicide attempt. i mean, where does this leave us? suicide? what happened? we had such a sweet beginning together. nice neighbors on a nice street. but now youre a train wreck. and its bad. real bad. and i want to look away. but im drawn to the wreck. but not like i was drawn to the movie 'crossroads.' i don’t want to co-star or have any part of the train wreck. i'd feel bad watching, but now everyone knows and is watching. the neighbors are all gathered on the sidewalk as the police are arresting you and going through your home. i feel bad. but i have to watch. i mean, it’s a meth lab. the structure is completely destroyed. a huge explosion is about to happen. and its tragic that you are in it, because you are my sweet girl next door...but there’s no way im missing an explosion...