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June 02, 2006


Kevin Federline: DOUCHEBAG
Britney Spears: TERRIBLE POET

What could have been a serious, frank deconstruction of a recent stream of consciousness poem posted by Britney Spears on her website was cancelled after a writer drank three cups of coffee early this morning.

55-year-old Lyzako, Executive Publisher of Lady Bomb Ink, INC, woke at his usual 6:10AM time, put on a pot, and took a dump while the java brewed.

He sat wondering what news the Internet would present him with this morning. What would he write about? Lately, the ‘motherfucking internet’ as he called it, drove the Pacino look-alike absolutely nuts.

“There’s just too much goddamn information out there and most of it is fucking bullshit,” he said.

“After reading fucking dozens of items on talentless young nitwit celebrities, I discovered the Britney poem which seems to be a fuck you / goodbye kind of thing to husband Kevin Federline. I guzzled coffee and cut and paste the poem onto a clean sheet and began to create a line-by-line analysis of its meaning.”

No more chains
That you gave me

Lyzako explains. “This means Federline impregnated Spears, married her, and knocked her up again. Then because of his sudden fame, K-Fed signed a record deal and the bitches were all over him. Federline, a manly man, spent ‘quality time’ with the ladies. These are the 'chains' Britney opines of."

Enough of pain
Now I’m craving
Something sweet, so delight
How do you stand sleeping at night?

At this point the writer pushed aside the laptop - something snapped inside Lyzako.

“That guy’s a fucking douchebag, he married fame, his record’s going to suck hard, really hard, and I’m a grown man writing about this insanity. I put on a Lee Konitz record and poured another cup of the Kona.”

Lee Konitz is known to jazz fans as a killer sax player. Kona is a coffee from Hawaii.

The writer stood on his front porch sipping from the steaming cup and listened to Konitz blow awhile. He decided against writing the piece.

“That dude is such an obvious asshole. And she married the flake. As soon as I urinate, I’m bailing on this story – I have better things to do,” he admitted. “I’ve got to get to the bank, fill the gas tank, and launder my boxers. I’ll goof on the Federlines with a photo and Flintstones reference caption, hit the publish button, and be done with it.”

Why the Flintstones?

The writer finished his coffee, set the mug down and smiled.

“I feel pretty good today,” he said. "Get the fuck away from me." ... (MUSTY SCRIBBLINS)

A.) "Federline's upcoming record is a classic of the rap genre!"
B.) "I've heard the future of hip hop: His name is Federline!"
C.) "The Beatles, Led Zepplin, Eminem, and now Federline!"
A.) Well, that's that. Okay, how much is in the envelope?
B.) Whoa, fifteen C-notes!
C.) All right, that's $500 apiece ... sweet.



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