Listen, we're both chicks. We can have a little talk. We can be real, right? Cool.

Look. I know maybe you feel pressured by your celebrity. Maybe you're angry. I don't know. But when you give up full parenting rights to Kevin Federline of all people, and show up looking like this, full of chin zittery, it just says to us one glaring observation: GET OFF THE METH.

I mean, I think I might be able to talk from experience. I spent 4 years in San Bernadino. Maybe that's where you get your drugs? It's pretty easy to get drugs there. I used to party in the suburbs. White kids love their recreational, homemade experience enhancers made out of common household cleaner. And, I used to live with a 40 year-old ex-meth user. God, her face was worse than Swiss Cheese. Still to this day, it gives be the shivers, especially when she used to walk around the house in her underwear. Hey, don't you walk around your house in your underwear?

Brit, are you okay? Need some water or something?

Love,
HollyWagers

Labels: Britney Spears, letters

posted by Kari at 8:03 AM