Britney Spears seems to have shocked a few people by going ice-skating after filing for divorce. Perhaps they expected her to retire to her apartment with a box of Kleenex and a gaggle of girlfriends to assure her that men are swine. Her lack of remorse suggests that marrying a slimy dullard does at least ease the pain of separation. A mountain of cash is also a great comfort in difficult times, particularly when a pre-nuptial contract will keep it beyond the reach of grasping hands. After gliding gaily around the ice-rink, she ought to have appeared on her balcony to empty vast tubs of popcorn and candy over her excited fans.
How will Britney’s caddish consort react to being served with divorce papers? According to Dr Whipsnade, a gentleman should respond to such an eventuality by taking a pinch of snuff and playing a game of billiards at his club. Regrettably, it appears that Mr Federline has no intention of acquitting himself with such decorum. Dark rumours concerning blackmail and sex videos are already circulating and we await the rapster’s revenge with a sense of foreboding. Let’s just hope the impending drama doesn’t inspire him to compose more doggerel.
Now a lot of people will blame Ms Spears for getting hitched to this certified gumboil. What they don’t understand is that young mammals are risk-takers who crave new experiences. This wasn’t Britney’s first marriage. A few years ago, she contracted a whimsical alliance with a childhood friend that was annulled after 55 hours. “Honestly, I really wanted to see what it was like to be married,” she explained. Her union with Federline probably arose from her natural curiosity about rap singers, infidelity, stupidity, etc. We gorillas tend to forgive this sort of impetuous behaviour in the young – if you don’t experiment in the springtime of life, you probably never will.
Britney is actually the kind of daughter who would make a gorilla proud. She’s inquisitive, a good dancer and has started reproducing early. Her choice of mate was poor, but we all make mistakes, and there are many good breeding years ahead of her. Now is the time to consider her next career move. I would advise her to move into a mansion in a small mid-western town, taking a film crew and a cast of character actors with her. The actors would play sitcom roles guaranteed to produce chuckles in homes throughout America – a gay butler who nags Britney about her wardrobe and treats her suitors with haughty disdain; a less-cute female friend who tells angst-ridden anecdotes about her love life; a family cook who ends each episode with the perfect, wry one-liner. Topping the ratings with a show like that would be one in the eye for all those nasty critics who’ve written Britney off as a worn-out piece of trailer trash.
A key attraction of the show would be watching Britney raise her kids, teaching them to chop wood, shoot jackrabbits and play the banjo. As the two unfortunates sired by Federline are unlikely to be good television, it’s essential that she bears more children. Prominent men could be invited to co-star in episodes where Britney has a romantic dalliance. I expect I might persuade Danny Craig to put his virility to the test before shooting starts on the next Bond movie. Richard Dawkins is another who ought to be willing to contribute his DNA to this worthy cause. I’m not suggesting they should actually service Britney on set, of course. If they can’t arrange a quiet moment with her in the cutting room, a donation in a plastic cup would be the hygienic alternative.
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