Letter of Truth: California Girls Edition

Hey all! Britney here. You know, Britney Federline? Yeah, it's me! Totally me. See, I've got all this new time on my hands, with being PREGNANT and all, and since I don't really have anything to do but throw another bag of Cheetos in the deep fryer (baby food--he he!), I thought I'd update Morgan's blog for her. Cause, see, we've got a lot of common now--we're both Southern girls who live in the great state of California. Even though Morgan lives in the other, cold part of CA, (seriously, it's as cold as Cameron Diaz up there, but you didn't hear that from me), we still have a lot of common. So here I am, talking for my new BFF, who says she is too busy to update, but really I doubt that. See, she just got TiVo, and now she's just as lazy as my husband, who I am really starting to have some mean thoughts about, let me tell you. But that's for another time and place, I guess. Let's just say that if I have to pay $3745 again for a bill to 1-900-HOT-CHIX, some manpri wearing boy toy might find his hand in the deep fryer! So there.

But anyway, Morgan is doing well, I think, even if she does make coffee for a living. She doesn't work for Starbucks, which sucks for me, but for this little classical music store with a cafe in it. It's okay, I guess. But they don't have frappucinos, which, like I said, sucks for me, because frappucinos are so good for the baby because they're like milk, only amplified with vitamins and other good stuff. With all the frappucinos I drink, my baby is going to be super, super healthy, even with old what's his face smoking all the time around my bump which is just SO NOT COOL. But anyways...

Back to Morgan...she lives in this house now, which she got for a good price because she rents it from a guy who doesn't speak English. And it's a cool house because she's spending all her husband's money that he gets from reading stupid communist stuff at Ikea buying rugs and shelves and this big ass computer desk. So that's good. And she lives right behind the BART station so she can ride anywhere she wants to go without getting on the highway because she's like really creeped out by driving in California.

So I guess that's it. My wrists are getting totally tired from typing all this. I'm not in shape anymore, guys, because my mom isn't standing over me anymore waving a dollar bill and a cattle prod making me do sit ups. But that's good. It's so good to be pregnant. Even though my parents might have been right about rat-face over there, I'm glad I did it all. And I don't even think about Dustin--I mean, Justin--anymore or how he's always on the TV with that old hag of his. Seriously. I don't. And I'll think about him even less once I get Morgan to stop TiVoing all those VH1 specials. So there.

Love ya'll,
Britney