Your Daily Fug!

Admittedly I did not keep up with celeb gossip this weekend, because, well, I have a life. But then today I get online and of course hot trash Britney Spears has done so much damage over the weekend that I honestly don’t even know where to start.

I’ll see if I can make this short and sweet, since I know all of you could have pretty much predicted this ass would be up to no good again.

A braless Britney left her million dollar mansion Saturday night and headed to her favorite L.A. spot: the public bathroom at a gas station. She then b*tched out Sam Lufti over the phone, decided to go into the recording studio (Yeah, right. Good one, Brit.) but got denied so she b*tched out the receptionist too.

“I need a f**ing studio now. Don’t tell me you don’t know who I am. F*** you. I need it now, not tomorrow!

Her urinary tract infection must have kicked into full force, because she then visited the restrooms of two more gas stations within the hour. She then invited a photog, by name of Phillipe, to join her and her assistant in her car. She then threatened all their lives by driving around like a maniac, including the running of red light after red light. She then kicks him out after arriving at the Malibu eatery Taverna Tony’s, where she changes from her turqoise top to a red one. Still no bra. Figures.

Brit Brit then up and decides she wants to go shopping at Target and asks Phillipe to take her and her assistant there. He tells her it’s closed but crazie doesn’t care.

“I don’t care. Take me there anyway.”

But then the voices inside her nappy head tell her Target is out, but the “cute” pap she’d asked into the L.A. Quizno’s bathroom is totally in. She demands Phillipe to call “cute” photographer Adnan, where the moron actually drives down from his sister’s home in Santa Barbara to Malibu to see Brit Brit in all her nappy splendor. She climbs in his car where she plays with his hat and they all drive the hour and a half back to L.A.

(Freaking Christ, the story never end!)

Now nearly 11 p.m., she rejoins her assistant who’d followed them in Brit’s car upon request, causes a major traffic jam to take a stupid photo of a mural and then starts screaming at photogs for getting in her way.

“You guys get a million pictures of me. Just let me get one for myself. No I can take it. I don’t want you to take it. Move out of the way you f***ng a***holes. You stupid f***s. I can’t see. Move! I can’t take a picture with you standing there, you m***f***rs. You’re f***ing stupid. Shut up.”

Then she drops her camera and the voices in her head go into full-on little kid mode and she starts to apologize to the paps.

“I love you guys,” she tells the assembled crowd with a smile. “I’m just in a bad mood. It’s not like me to get mad at you.”

Her UTI kicks in again, so she pulls into Walgreen’s and uses the bathroom. Girl heads home for just 10 minutes, where she changes outfits for a third time. Nothing says class like a leopard print mini-dress and pink wig!

Brit then heads to the Peninsula Hotel to meet her “cute” photog Adnan. They head up to her hotel room, he heads out an hour later for cigs, and denies questions of romance asked by other photogs.

“It’s hard to make babies when you’re just having lunch.”

Adnan then heads back to the hotel for “lunch” and doesn’t resurface until 10:25 a.m. He then drove her to her home and stayed there until Sunday afternoon, around the time Brit is supposed to visit the two people that should matter most to her in the entire world: her two young sons.

Alright. Phew. That’s it. I feel like I just ran a marathon. My brain is scrambled. And that’s all I have to say about that.

Oh, and Adnan totally has herpesgonasyphalaids now.

Brit in pink wig and leopard print dress after the jump!

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