Britney Won’t Die

 

Oh the shame

Which is probably a good thing, since she’s barely made it to 30.

 

Many of my friends are estatic over Ms. Spear’s new album, which dropped today. I haven’t listened to it yet, but I’m sure as soon as the first single hits z100 tomorrow morning I will be bopping in my car, ready to hit the floor.

That aside, I am not in the least bit excited for yet another Britney album.  Remember when in middle school listening to Britney made one the object of ridicule because everyone knew she had no creative input? Somehow the nostalgia factor has buoyed her past three albums to success and she’s back at the top of her game. Granted, she does have a bit more input to the entire creative process, but she’s still making straight up pop music. I get my fill of that on the radio, thanks, no need to purchase.

So congrats to her producers, managers, wranglers, stylists and choreographers for building Britney 2.0, the version that loves to have sex. I only want to be listening if there is a cran vodka in hand, strobe lights overhead, and I’m rolling six deep with my gays.

 

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