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we're movingHeads up, everybody: BROOD is moving to a newer, prettier home. This new site is not only better looking, but also has better features, such as a link that allows you to bookmark posts easily. And, hopefully, the address is easier to remember, because it’s my name (brood was taken, unfortunately): It’s not up quite yet, so don’t bother to type that into your browser right now.

The only downside to this newer, classier site is that it’s going to be hard to get people to move over with me. The site should be “migrating” or whatever on Monday, at which time this page will re-direct you to my new home. When you reach my new, functioning site for the first time, you should:

  • Update your bookmarks
  • Update your RSS feed
  • Edit your blogroll

You could also just write done the new address or memorize it or shave the mirror image of the address into the back of your head. But the point is, I’m moving, and I want you to come with me.

Also, if you like the look of my site and you need some web-techy help yourself, let me know and I’ll send you over to my lovely, talented, and always-awake web-lady, Robin.


brtiney spears shaved headMany of you have written asking me why I haven’t been writing my Sarah vs. Spears installments during a time of such rich deposits of Britney Spears-related celebrity news. How could I have missed out on commenting on Brit leaving her kids in a locked car while she went on a chandelier shopping spree? How could I have resisted writing a scathing blog about Brit’s sister being preggers what with her mother having just finished up that book about parenting?

And now, in these prosperous Britney-Spears-Acting-Crazy-Again times, how could I not cover her dramatic mental breakdown and custody loss?

The answer is two-pronged. First off, it’s just too easy. Too many people are doing it and as soon as I come up with a clever stretcher joke, I read about it with slightly different phrasing on TMZ or somewhere. Secondly (and this may shock you) I’m kind of starting to feel bad. It’s one thing to make fun of someone chandelier shopping and it’s another thing to make fun of someone landing themselves in a mental hospital for the weekend. This might go back to my earlier point of things being just too easy.

I mean, I don’t want to be the bully who makes fun of the fat kid or the kid with acne or the poor kid whose parents are divorced. I want to make fun of the popular girl or the guy who thinks he’s hot shit when in reality his shit is only lukewarm. Britney used to be that popular girl, but I’m not sure if she really qualifies anymore.

These recent reports that she’s not even hooked on any foreign substances are even a little scary to me – if she’s not on something, she might seriously be in trouble. I mean, she slept with a member of the paparazzi, people. And now you’re telling us she was sober during it? (And you’re also telling me he didn’t get any pictures?)  

 I might have to find myself a new youthful diva to hate on – I think Ben thinks Lindsay Lohan is hot, maybe I could fabricate an intricate fantasy in which I am locked in a life-long competition with her. Or Paris Hilton? Or is she too skinny for me?

In any case, until Britney Spears gets her act together to the point in which her life is only as screwed up and sad as mine, I’m going to lay off a bit. If I dig down deep enough, even I can start to see some difference between being dumb and wanton and socially irresponsible and being in need of some mental counsel and professional help.

But – mark my words – if we are to find out that this is a stunt, and that Britney is merely SO dumb and SO wanton that she physically needed a stretcher, I will come back with full force and full vengeance. Or, if we find out she’s merely on a smorgasbord of illicit and prescription drugs, all washed down with alcoholic beverages and fried chicken, I will not be kind. Let’s keep our fingers crossed.

Read the last installment of Sarah vs. Spears