This past Halloween I dressed up as Britney Spears. There were jokes about my blonde wig, $3 Wal-Mart tube top, and hipster jeans since being barefoot and pregnant would be more along the lines of the Britney as of late. Still, I endured, knowing that homegirl would one day see the light, remove the 160 pounds of dead weight, and reclaim her status as the ultimate pop princess.

When I got an email from my nearest and dearest pop culture-loving friend announcing that Britney is giving the old heave-ho to the man who gave disheveled douchebags around the world hope, I called a coworker over and held hands with her as we erupted in joyous squeals.

The day we’d been waiting for had finally come.

It’s now time for you to go get our girl

Love you long time,
Jo