The news drew howls of protest from the trembling lips of her sobbing fans, many of whom threw themselves off the roofs of buildings or hung themselves by their nipple rings as they faced the prospect of another month—or possibly several years—without the inspirational words of America's princess of pop and former professional virgin.

According to Phil McCrack, Britney Spears' publicity manager, who spoke exclusively to Utterpants from atop a huge mountain of rejection notices that smelt strongly of girl water, the 'resting' pop sensation and mother-to-be is 'quietly confident' that her autobiography well be out in time for Christmas, but would not be drawn on whether she meant this year or some indeterminate Yuletide in the future.

Pausing only to 'anoint' another batch of autographed pink and blue thongs with what he assured our reporter was Britney's best-selling perfume—'Clueless', but looked suspiciously like the creamy man-juice he was pumping out of his hugely empurpled member, Phil McCrack went on to reveal that it was the pop tart's insistence on naming her baby after a British football team that had delayed the book's publication.
"Why is that a problem?" we asked.
"Britney's American for crissakes!" snapped the publicist, hurriedly zipping up his jeans.
"Didn't Victoria Beckam name her kid after a New York bridge?"
"That's different, Posh Spice is a skanky little slut who's married to a loser who can't keep his dick in his pants."

"So what name has she chosen?" we asked.
"Macclesfield."
"Not Preston?" we asked. "We heard it was Preston."
"It might be.." muttered the publicist evasively. "Geography was never Ms Spear's strong point."
"So what happened to 'Charlie?"
"Ms Spears dropped it after someone pointed out that 'chocolate factory' was a euphemism for an anal sex slut and 'Charlie' was something dirty hoes sucked on."

Britney Spears (34-69-34), who is said to have become an expert cock sucker after practising for months on a giant lingam given to her by Madonna, was unavailable for comment when we tried to contact her at the Kabbalah Fellatio Centre in downtown Santa Monica to which she has just donated $567,000 and a pair of her 'Toxic' panties.

Rumours that her autobiography contains hundreds of steamy sex sessions during which Britney guzzles her way through gallons of All-American cream were vigorously denied by a spokestypeperson for the publishers, who gave us quite another story on condition that we preserved her anonymity.
“We simply can’t get a useable manuscript out of her,” complained Cherry Hindlick (27), wringing her hands in despair. “What she sent us doesn’t appear to have a single preposition or adverb in it. It’s complete gibberish! It’s as if somebody sat a monkey in front of a typewriter, only I've yet to encounter a simian who peppers his prose with disparaging references to the inadequate size of their partner's genitalia and her own excessive fondness for being rutted up the back passage by complete strangers in public restrooms on the flimsy pretext that it 'soothes baby."

When we asked about the possibility of using a ghostwriter to complete the project, Ms Hindlick sighed deeply. “We’ve tried that. We want it to be her story but all she does is grab her crotch and giggle.” The spokestypeperson referred all questions regarding a potential lawsuit to Scratchit & Krotch's corporate attorney, Simone Shyster, who told us: “We’d like to recover the two million dollar advance, but she apparently used most of it for reconstructive surgery and blew the rest up Kevin Federline's nose, or possibly her ass.

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© 2005 Brianna Banks and utterpants.co.uk /200805