So it occurred to me on the weekend as I was reading a gossipy magazine at the hairdresser (yes, while getting that cut and colour discussed in my last post): Exactly what, pray tell, was Britney Spears in rehab for?
The article was some delightful fluff piece, detailing how poor Brit had exploded to a (*gasp*) size 6, and was hoping to have $130K in plastic surgery getting back to a size 2. Before getting into how she was so damnably desperate to be a 2 again because she wanted K-Fed to see what he was missing, and because she so very much wants charming JT -- whom she's been split from longer than she dated by now, no doubt -- back, the author pointed out that plastic surgery couldn't happen immediately. You see, dear readers, after being in rehab, surgery requiring painkillers isn't allowed for a certain period of time.
Issue.
What was Britney addicted to, y'all?
Yeah, sure, we all saw her wee breakdown slash head-shaving episode. And we saw the lost panties, boozy nights out with girlfriends, and the fact that her kids seem to have all but disappeared. And I have no doubt she was messing around with way too much alcohol and a mixed bag of drugs.
Is that actually addiction? Because it sure looked like a mental breakdown of some sort. In either case, nobody actually did say what Britney was addicted to.
Unless it was Crazy?
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9:40 PM
Labels: silliness
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1 comments:
Rehab is the newest celeb thing, don't ya know.
You're a bigot? No! You just need anger rehab.
You're a 21 year old who hasn't figured out how to party without being an ass? No! You're an alcoholic -- time for rehab!
You're going through a very public divorce and you don't like to wear underwear? Heck, how could rehab NOT fix you up?
Sigh. And you just know celeb rehab is really just a spa with some psychobabble thrown in for good measure.
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