I saw your new music video today, and I single-handedly started a slow clap for you that began in my kitchen and (I'm sure) reverberated across at least New York State.
I really liked the white dress and the fancy lights. I also liked the tribute to Rocky Horror with the lips. I want you to know, Britney, that I was always pulling for you. I watched you spin into a nightvisiony downward spiral, and I cringed along with the rest of America as you reverted to your white trash ways, but I always knew you had a little more Hit Me Baby One More Time in you. I stood by your side through the popping out of K-Fed's spawn, through the breakup, through the umbrella spaz. And I'm standing by your side now.
For years, you have been a symbol of hope for Disney Mouseketeers everywhere. We counted on you to wrap giant snakes around your bikini-clad body and show us what the American Dream was really all about. We watched you go from America's sweetheart to snake tamer extraordinaire. As young impressionable girls, we looked to your photoshopped posters as an impossible physical standard to make our boyfriends drool, and some of us snickered as you hit rock bottom.
But not me, Britney.
I was always there for you, waiting for you to dump the zero and get with a hero. It started with the Glee episode devoted to your iconic musical history, and continued through your newest music video. You haven't disappointed, Britney, and I slow clap for you.
Keep up the good work, and stay away from umbrellas and beard trimmers.