OK. I’ve had it. There are pictures of Britney Spears’ crotch all over the Internets. She’s been riding in cars with Paris Hilton, and when she scooches out of the backseats, everything and the kitchen sink (and there might actually be a kitchen sink somewhere in there) spills out. The latest breaking news? “Britney Buys Panties!” As if that solves anything whatsoever.
Look, I get it. Britney’s gross. Britney’s letting herself go. Britney should be home with her neglected, poop-encrusted, probably really hungry babies instead of out partying every night with the worst new BFF in history. Huge and sprawling hoo-hoos are not fun to look at. All of this is true. But you know what? Britney doesn’t have to wear underwear if she doesn’t want to. It’s perfectly legal. Everyone’s done it at least once. You’re telling me your Netherlands are that much more attractive than hers? Please. And don’t think that if Brit-Brit’s forbidden city and the rest of her body were in better shape, this would be as big a deal. Y’all are just mad ‘cause everything’s stretched out, yo. That’s reality. Deal with it. Either stop complaining about her crotch or just DON’T. LOOK. AT. IT.
Here’s the point: Going commando is not the problem. Desperate photographers throwing themselves under cars to shoot someone’s most unflattering, private angle are the problem. Get off the ground, dudes. You make me sick.