For the good of humanity, spit your gum at Britney Spears

In today's politically-correct world, men no longer have the option to kill a wandering grizzly bear with their bare hands or beat a random female when they begin to feel like an approaching-middle-age loser who's spinning his wheels in life. But this life is all about adaptation, after all, and my prescription for the mid-life blues is to bash washed-up celebrities who won't go away. And Britney Spears is beyond doubt the Antichrist of that particular subspecies of human being.

The breaking point came today as I was reading my Calgary Sun (yes, I should have known better, but I make my own rules so shut up) and whose fat pregnant NAKED ass should I see right on the second page? Why, the ubiquitous Ms. Spears, of course. Funny thing is that I thought she had her stupid baby months ago already -- why are they printing this now? I didn't bother to find out; all I know is that this is the last straw. And I'm gonna do something about it.

"What difference," you snivel, "do you think someone like YOU, a washed-up, paunchy WHITE MALE, can possibly hope to make?" Well, see if you can follow along with this, asshole: I chew a lot of gum. I need a place to dispose of said gum. Why not send one stick of chewed-up gum to Britney Spears' publicity office in its own envelope every time I read, without any desire of my own, Britney Spears' name in the newspaper or on the Internet or hear her name anywhere but on the local teenybopper station or MTV, both of which I avoid like herpes?

Come to think of it, this whole gum statement thing draws quite a profound analogy to Britney Spears' career and, alas, Britney Spears herself: a chewed-up piece of substanceless bubblegum covered in some guy's saliva. Well, in the case of Britney Spears -- and not my gum -- MANY guys' saliva, but I'm only willing to go so far to make a point.