We can exclusively reveal that the mysterious 'businessman'
pop princess Britney Spears has claimed is stalking her, is none other
than Gdubya Bush — a notorious arms dealer and former snake oil
salesman from Wacko, in Texas. In a shock announcement made in front
of the twenty-seven stunned fans who had packed LA's Timberlake Stadium
to see her, America's teen idol tearfully revealed her secret liaison
with the world's most wanted terrorist.
"I did it again - um, I mean like, we did and then, like —
we did it again and again."
The announcement comes at a time when the career of the former virgin
is at rock bottom. Indeed, one cynic suggested to us that Britney must
have been snorting rocks up her bottom to claim that a man
of Gdubya Bush's standing would stoop to slipping the presidential pork
to the bombed-out blond bimbo.
We put this very reasonable question to the man himself when we interviewed
him at his kosher chicken ranch, outside Wacko, today. 'The Prez', as
Mr Bush likes to be called, stoutly denied that he had savoured the
sultry starlet’s silicone charms.
"I have no recollection of having sex with that woman," said
the suspected terrorist, sourly.
"Does that mean she's making it up?" we asked.
"This is a world that is much more uncertain than the past. In
the past I was certain, we were certain, that when we had sex we would
certainly recollect having it. We were certain, and therefore we certainly
never denied the certainties we were certain of. That's what we were
certain of. We're certain that even though Ms Spear's career may have
bottomed out, the certainty that she had one remains pretty certain.
We're certain there are people who would never believe that a President
of the United States would have sex with a woman young enough to be
At that point our interview was unexpectedly cut short by a telephone
call from a Saudi Arabian gentleman who wanted to ask Mr Bush's advice
about his Iraqi oil shares.
The respected singer-songwriter, Bonnie Bitchell, made her feelings
about Ms Spear's latest outrage very clear when she told us: 'The sooner
that little slut is flushed down the crapper with all the other teenage
turds, the sooner this shitty industry can disappear into the cesspool
We assume the canadian crooner was referring to the clauses now being
written into recording contracts which require female singers to wear
leather thongs, get a boob job and finger their crotches on stage.
We eventually tracked down the pop pin-up to a sleazy motel room in
Moose Creek, Montana and waited while she visited the wash room.
"I think you have a little powder on your nose, Ms Spears,"
we remarked, as the fun-sized, busty beauty bounced into the room.
"Eeeeww!" she exclaimed, wiping the glittering white dust
from her flushed face. "Like, it's not what you think, you know?
It's just a cold in the head,'kay?"
We asked the busty barbie-doll why the leader of the greatest nation
on Earth would be remotely interested in a talentless two-timing todger-teaser
with a brain even smaller than his.
"Well like Georgie was sooo hot and I was like sooo horn, um —
attracted to him," pouted the pop prima donna. "And then he
starts telling me about the war on terror and I was like OMIGOD! That
is soooo coool! And then he told me he was, like the King of America
and he wanted me to like, be his Queen and I was like, sooo thrilled
and he was like, sooo hot and it made my dad like, really, really mad
and my mom really, really, jealous and all my friends thought he was
like, sooo cool and that we made like, THE CUTEST COUPLE! And then he
said we should start a family and I was like OMIGOD — hit me baby
one more time, and he was like, all romantic and I was like SO sure
that we would be together like, forever, and — what was the question
"I think you've answered it, dear," we said. "Why don't
you just admit you made the whole thing up as a cheap publicity stunt?"
"It wasn't cheap!" protested the pretentious pin-up. "I
paid like, $500 for the photos!"
"Pathetic." we commented, whereupon the simpering starlet
burst into tears.
"Nobody loves me anymore," she sobbed, "my shrink says
my bottom is gross. Is my bottom too big? I wish my hair was thicker.
I wish my feet were prettier. My toes are really ugly. I wish my ears
were smaller. And my boobies could be bigger, couldn't they? I'm still
pretty, aren't I? I can sing and dance can't I? I mean — like,
I've still got LOADS of talent — right?
"You're a star, Britney", we reassured the neurotic nymphet.
"Do you really think so?" Oh - you're sooo sexy! Can I kiss
"Not bloody likely," I replied, fending off the flighty floosie.
"I'm a happily hitched hetero mother of two."
"C'mon," pleaded the pint-sized pop princess, "Madge
did it. Everyone's doing it."
"Oh - all right then," I conceded. "But no tongue please
— I'm British!"
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