Oops, I did it again

Have you ever been assigned a task that you think is so ludicrous that you grudgingly do it, half-heartedly, so the final result sucks?

I've got one of those going on today, and I'm grudgingly doing it, but I must say that my final result sucks. It involves a lot of handwriting, and while my writing has gone downhill in the past 10 years anyway due to typing all the time, it's practically illegible today. I just can't get my heart into this project, and therefore my hands are refusing to cooperate, too. I'm addressing envelopes and I'm sure the PO will come and arrest me for gross negligence once they actually decipher the return address on the envelopes.

While I'm doing my task today, I have free mind time, which means today I'm thinking about Britney and her not-so-comeback on last night's VMAs. I find myself inexplicably drawn to the plights of the Three Bimbos of the Apocalypse: Britney, Paris and Lindsay. I wish I could say I came up with that fantastic name, but alas, I did not. Anyway, so last night was supposed to be Brit's big return to the world of Entertainment. I mean real entertainment (hence the cap E), as in using talent to amuse others, not the paparazzi-fueled entertainment America (i.e. me) has grown to love. Britney opened for MTV's VMAs. Because I don't have cable, I had to wait until this morning to read on-line that she pretty much crashed and burned. Okay, so she all the way crashed and burned. She not only didn't sing, she couldn't even lip sync the words all that well. Her dance moves were apparently taken straight from the choreography of "Cocoon," and her costume was, to be kind, less than flattering. She even appeared on-stage missing one fake nail.

I mean, come on. The girl has more money than I will ever see in my lifetime, and she can't get a last-minute fix on a French manicure?

I can't even explain why I am drawn to watching this girl self-destruct. I think it started when we were pregnant at the same time. I'm happy to admit that that's where the similarities end. Although I have been tempted to shave my noodle on bad hair days.

So one of my guilty pleasures is reading about what stupid thing Britney has done today and thinking, "I am so a better mom than her." I know, it's really childish, but still, it makes me feel good.