Dear Britney,

I know that you have been under attack as of late. And I hate to jump on the bandwagon, but it's just gotten to the point that I can no longer stay silent. It's like watching someone stand at the top of very steep, very dangerous concrete steps and teeter on the edge. I need to stop you from falling. Anything I can do to help, well, will make me feel like I at least grabbed you by the hand and led you away from the steps. Stand back, Britney, for you are in danger.

I remember when you first came onto the music scene. You were so young and fresh-faced. I understood when you started to be a little more risque - I figured you needed to get away from such a young image. (I understood, but I didn't necessarily condone.) I stood by you and hummed along to your tunes on the radio. They were certainly catchy. But then when 'Slave 4 U' (by the way, it physically hurt me to type that) came out, you kind of lost me. It really wasn't that good and the whole video was, well, too much for me to let my little daughter watch. But that's okay - if you wanted to go in that direction, it was okay. I was supportive, kind of. (But I was starting to write you off.)

Oh but then, then you started cavorting around with that KFed guy. And that was not cool. All of the pictures of you smoking and groping were definitely not cool. You really lost me there. So needless to say, when you married him I figured it was the end. You and I could go on no longer.

However, there started to shine a little light of hope when you announced that you were divorcing him. Could it be?, I thought. Could she have come to her senses and will she come back better than ever? I admit, I was hopeful. Very hopeful. I mean, you are a mother now. And in my mind I was thinking that having kids would ground you and give you something to work for. I figured you would want to do something that you and your children could be proud of. A legacy of sorts. But boy, was I wrong.

Instead, you took off with a bang and shot right down into the gutter. You are falling down those concrete steps, and nothing anyone does seems to be stopping your fall. I'm not even going to touch the whole 'crotch-shot' debacle. That speaks volumes all by itself. But now we see you looking like this:


When you used to look like this:

Do you see the difference? Because the rest of us do. So go put on some clothes (start with underwear and a bra, please) and brush your hair. Stop going out so much and maybe come home a little earlier when you do go out. We want classy, Britney, classy. (Or as close to that as you can get.)

Thanks,

E