Dear Britney Spears,
or go on a super world tour that will help you to redeem yourself from your sad, bloated, childless, bald, Starbucks-infested life.
Tired of that crackhead beezy on TMZ,
p.s. Dear The Rest of the Sucky Spears clan,
Please stop doing all of the following:
writing books about parenting, procreating, drinking Starbucks while pregnant, writing each other "discreet" notes and publicly hand-delivering them to one another, getting married, driving with children on laps, marrying losers, going into rehab and blaming your parents for it, selling your children to tabloids, exploiting your unborn children for the cover of a tabloid, and breathing. That'll do for now. Thanks a lot and Happy Freakin New Year! :)