Britney Spears, continuing her campaign to permanently destroy her career, showed up at a California tattoo parlor yesterday with a shaved head and got two more tattoos--a pair of red lips and a pair of pink lips, one on her wrist and one on her neck. (There are so many things wrong with this sentence that it's almost worth stopping here, right?)
I learned all of this, of course, from a front-page CNN story while eating breakfast. TMZ.com and Access Hollywood reported that Britney had also checked into a rehab program the same day, but then checked herself back out. (Maybe she should have stayed in?)
I think the girl's done gone and lost her mind. Anybody else hearing cries for help?
More pictures and details, including photos of the head shaving, from Pink is the New Blog.
Update Feb. 20: Britney checks into rehab (and stays this time).
Update Feb. 21: No such luck. Britney checks herself out of treatment, her second one-day stint in rehab this week.
Meanwhile, yesterday afternoon I headed back to JFK airport after the previous day's travel troubles and managed to land a standby seat on a flight back to Minneapolis. Sure, I almost missed the flight because the security lines were so incredibly long (longer than I've ever seen at JFK, ever), and then we sat in the plane on the tarmac for two hours while the airport fixed a baggage delivery problem, but the important part is that I made it to Minneapolis, and I'm now camped out at the family compound in the suburbs.
I love New York City, but it's also kind of nice to be back for a three-day weekend breather here in the Mini Apple.
I still have that song from Shortbus stuck in my head. I've been listening to a lot of Regina Spektor's "Samson" lately (see below) to see if I can get something new stuck in there, though. In any case, it's nice to be listening to artists who write their own music, sing well, and actually play instruments, isn't it?