Oops. (REDUX)

12.3.2015 (first published this week in 2005)

I know how much it would suck to be friends with Brittany Spears.

It would be Thursday night and Alan would be in LA and the rest of us would be standing around having beers and trying not to stare at the TV behind the bar and Spears would walk in and we'd buy her a beer or mebbe she'd refuse because she got plenty of beers paid for by Lovely List Members the week before and she'd pony-up funds for beers and we'd stand around and drink beers and talk. SOON ENOUGH she'd say something like, "Hey you wanna hear the song I'm working on?" and before anyone could say HELL NO she'd launch into an a capella (loud a capella as she's singing over the din of the crowd and likely the juke) version of her shitty new pop song so awful you want to take a hostage. Some times she'd rough-out the ridiculous dance she'd eventually do to the song onstage. It would be embarassing. "Yeh, she's with us. Yeh, she's drunk."

Or mebbe it would a Saturday night and we'd be at the bowling alley eating crappy pizza and drinking pitchers of Bud and rolling Turkeys and SOON ENOUGH she'd say something like, "Hey you wanna hear the song I'm working on?" and before anyone could say HELL NO she'd launch into an a capella (loud a capella as she's singing over the din of the strikes, spares and gutterballs and likely the juke) version of her shitty new pop song so awful you want to take a hostage. Some times she'd rough-out the ridiculous dance she'd eventually do to the song onstage right there on lane 22. Some times she'd step over the foul line. It would be a scene.

Or mebbe it would be a beautiful afternoon when my brother and I are indoors watching the Cubs play the Pirates while we enjoy snacks and a shitload of beer. We'd be laughing or crying at the poor play of our shitty teams and she'd come over and within a few minutes she'd say something like, "Hey you wanna hear the song I'm working on?" and before we could say HELL NO she'd launch into an a capella (loud a capella as she's singing over the din of the TV) version of her shitty new pop song so awful you want to take a hostage. Some times she'd rough-out the ridiculous dance she'd eventually do to the song onstage right there next to the couch. Sometimes during commercial breaks we'd have to watch her. It would be excruciating.

Or mebbe it would be a beautiful afternoon when my brother, wife and whoever else would be in the backyard, barbecuing burgers and dogs, drinking beers and enjoying the day. She'd come over, have a beer, enjoy a dog and soon enough she'd say something like, "Hey you wanna hear the song I'm working on?" and before we could say HELL NO she'd launch into an a capella (loud a capella as she's singing over the din of the firestation next door) version of her shitty new pop song so awful you want to take a hostage. Some times she'd rough-out the ridiculous dance she'd eventually do to the song onstage right there on the lawn next to the Weber. At times we would fear her wild gyrations would knock over the grill. We hoped she wouldn't spill any more beer. It would suck.

Tonight - Last official meeting of 2015:  Homestead


bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!