Sunday, January 30, 2005

Never Coming to a Performance Venue Near You

In the grand, artistic tradition of Mrs. B. Spears-Federline, I will be lip-syncing "I'm a slave for you" with a semi-elaborate, highly derivative dance routine involving a chair and a snake.

I will then proceed to: smoke, gulp down a sex on the beach, belch, eat some cheetos, eat a big mac, pick my ass, fellate Fred Durst, walk barefoot through a truck stop men's room and chew an entire pack of bubble yum to come down from the "performance" high.

Of course, all this is also done in the grand artistic tradition of the Britster.

Oh, for the days of Miss Peggy Lee, or at the very least, Cher.

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