There are little red goblins from the moons of Saturn who steal time from me. They live under the bed. I'm quite certain of this. Late at night, I can hear them playing poker and eating Fritos brand corn chips.
Also, I hear Britney's ticked-off because her publicist "leaked" the sex of her baby to the press. Whoops. Clearly, the fact that her child is female plays an important role in her quest for total galactic domination. Or maybe it's the other way round, and Britney's afraid of looking weak in the eyes of the demon hunters that an alliance of Jehovah's Witnesses and Christian Scientists are dispatching to end this atrocity before, if you'll excuse the pun, the stars are right again, and the foetus of Britney is pooped out into the world to merge with Bill Gates to form the One True Dollar Sign of the Apocalypse.
Okay. I'll admit. All that's speculation. Especially the part about an alliance between Jehovah's Witnesses and Christian Scientists. But, you have to admit, it'd make a pretty good Jack Chic pamphlet. However, you can blame forlorn99 for leading me to discover, via my mystical wooden alphabet of random divination, which some disbelievers and infidels call Scrabble tiles, that Britney Spears is actually an anagram for BAPTISER SYREN. Verily, we are frelled.
Spooky says I'm smoking crack.
Fine. Let's see how long it takes her to change her tune, once the Spawn of Pale and Trashy Popstardom releases the flesh-eating slugs. It's time to get down on your knees and start praying to Madonna, people. Only she and her Cabalistic microdwarves can save us...
P.S. — Thank you, David Lyton of Sydney, Australia!