I don’t know guys.  This voicemail is reportedly Our Lady Of Cheese Grits leaving a voicemail for an attorney that was assisting in having her dad’s conservatorship dissolved.  Do you think this is actually Brit?  Because I’ve never heard a sentence spoken by her that didn’t include the word “y’all,” I’m very unsure.  Thoughts?

Here’s the transcript, in case the audio, uh, disappears:

Hi my name’s Britney Spears. I called you earlier. I’m calling again because I just wanted to make sure that during the process of eliminating the conservatorship that my father has threatened me several times, you know, he’ll take my children away.  I just want to be guaranteed that
everything will be fine with the process of you guys taking care of
everything that things will stay the same as far as my custodial time.
That’s it, bye.

Like, I feel that if it was really Ms. Spears, it would sound more like this, all uttered to the backdrop of gum-chomping, of course:

Hi, y’all.  Muh name’s Brit and I called y’all earlier.  I’m calling agin ‘cuz I wanna make sure that when I ditch my daddy, he doesn’t take muh babies from me.  I just wanna know that it’ll all be okay and you guys will make sure that I git to see muh babies.  Y’all can reach me at Waffle House.  Uh, okay.  Bye, y’all

I think I’m supposed to be focused on the adorable, totally normal-looking celeb fam, consisting of Gwen Stefani, Gavin Rossdale and their kids Kingston and Zuma, in Beverly Hills yesterday.  Cute.

But isn’t the real story here the complete absence of nannies?  And red lipstick?

“I want him to have a great relationship with his mom, because that’s important, but I love him the same way as if he were mine. I already feel like he’s my son, from the first day.  He’s a little angel – the sweetest, most cuddly, loving baby. I feel blessed to have him in my life.”

Gisele Bundchen, wife of Tom Brady and apparently also mother of his son, in Vanity Fair’s May, 2009 issue.

Note to GB:  Unless you’ve got some stretchmarks to share, you’ve pushed a human head out of your pelvis and have the videotape to prove it, or have adoption papers stating otherwise, the kid is not your son.

Team Bridget!

Wait, does cocaine even give you the munchies?  Anyway, it’s all alleged at this point, and no one has forked over the $400,000 asking price for the video, but word has it that there is film-footage of Joe Biden’s daughter snorting cocaine.  New York Post has seen the video, but didn’t buy it.  It’s a recession, bitches, and I’m not sure people have a half-million dollars worth of care about Joe Biden’s coke-kid.

The video, which the shooter initially hoped to sell for $2 million before scaling back his price to $400,000, shows a 20-something woman with light skin and long brown hair taking a red straw from her mouth, bending over a desk, inserting the straw into her nostril and snorting lines of white powder.

She then stands up and begins talking with other people in the room. A young man looks on from behind her, facing the camera. The lawyers said he was Ashley’s boyfriend of a few years.

The camera follows the woman from a few feet away, focusing on her as she moves around the room. It appears not to be concealed. At one point she shouts, “Shut the f— up!”

The woman appears to resemble Ashley Biden, 27, a social worker for a Delaware child-welfare agency and a visible presence during her father’s campaign for the White House.

The dialogue is difficult to discern, but the woman makes repeated references to the drugs, said the lawyers, who said they viewed the tape about 15 times.

“At one point she pretty much complains that the line isn’t big enough,” said the second lawyer, who declined to identify himself. “And she talks about her dad.”

Biden has been an outspoken crusader against drugs, coining the term “drug czar” in 1982 while campaigning for a more forceful “war on drugs.”

The lawyers declined to name the person who shot the video, but said he knew Ashley well and had attended other parties with her at which there were illegal drugs.

Have you ever noticed that whenever people put themselves out there as drug crusaders, their kids invariably end up as addicts?  I’m seriously considering smoking a bong around my kids on a regular basis in hopes that they grow up to be Amish.  Incidentally, while I was researching Joe “Drug Czar” Biden, I was relieved to see that he has campaigned for equal sentencing for crackheads and powder blow users.  I predict this legislation is going to come in handy for the Biden family.

Happy Monday, peeps!  Is “peeps” still a word that is even used?  I’m so not up on cool lingo.  I seriously still say, “What up?” and “Let’s rent a video.”  Not.  Cool.  You know who is cool, though?  Miley Cyrus.

I was so happy to find the video of totally age-inappropriate Miley, crying while accepting her 2009 Kid’s Choice Awards.  And I quote:  “Unlike any other awards show, it’s all about you guys.”  Well, actually-Miley, I’d like to tell you a story…

Once upon a time, long, long ago, when Pong was all the rage, no one wanted to go to the beach because of that scary shark movie, and Fame was a number one song instead of some entity earned by flashing your nethers, a little awards show was born.  That program, brought forth in 1975 was named The People’s Choice Awards.  The end.

Sorry for the lack of plot and character development.  Moral of story?  Nickelodeon was so not the ground-breaker on this fan-driven awards racket.

Oh, and Miley?  I was on my knees, rosary-draped and desperately praying that thought you were going to lose too.

I’ll let you choose how you want to wrap up this weekend. You can either read the entire content of this post about Sean Avery and how Vogue just released the title of his upcoming biopic, OR you can skip to the very last paragraph for an Amy Winehouse upskirt. I’ll leave the decision up to you.

If you don’t know who Sean Avery is, you should. You should know him, so you can hate him.

He’s just about the douchiest hockey player ever to play the game. He’s been traded and re-traded, thanks to his habit of alienating all his teammates while making completely unnecessary asshole comments about his ex-girlfriends (which include Elisha Cuthbert & Rachel Hunter), decorating booths at fashion week with sunflowers,  and shopping for women’s handbags on ESPN. He’s also solely responsible for a regulation in the NHL rule book ( alternately known as either the Sean Avery rule or the “Can’t Get Mad, I’m Not Touching” rule) that keeps assholes from acting like playground bullies and standing in front of the goalie, flailing their arms about like a 4 year old fighting with his sister.

Vogue magazine has decided to make a biopic on Avery, who once interned there. They announced the title of of the upcoming movie this weekend: Puck face. I’m thinking they were one letter off on that one.

And for those of you who’re gonna bitch about me ending the weekend by writing about a sports celebrity, here. That’s a nice Amy Winehouse upskirt shot for you. Are you happy now? You could have bettered yourselves by learning something about the people you should hate in professional sports. But instead, you’d rather look at some skankity crack patty’s skunk hole.

Pattinson has responded to rumors circulated earlier in the week that crew members on the set of New Moon have been complaining about his body odor.

“I haven’t even been on the set yet.”

“I also do shower,” he added, before joking that he regularly reads his negative press.

“I only look at the negative stuff,” he said.

“I just want to know whoever’s saying negative stuff, and I just want to remember their names. I write it all down in my black book.”

He has a little black book of revenge so he can write down the names of people who have talked trash about him? Well that makes sense. I’ve always said that the best way to deal with negative press is to act like a middle school sociopath.

(Note to Pattinson: It’s spelled K-e-l-l-y.)