Britney, I reached my breaking point today when I saw this picture from Mardi Gras of you, your wig and that gaping hole in your face. I’m not your dentist or ear nose and throat doctor, so stop showing me every tooth and organ in your mouth every time you mug it up for the crowd. I wish I was at Mardi Gras so I could throw a basketball in your face. Sadly I fear you’d swallow it and open right up again. From your ubiquitous uvula to your whorendous wardrobe, to your digusting wads of gum you’re too tacky to spit out before you make public appearances, you’re on a one way trip to spokesmodeling at a manure auction at the Shitkicker County Fair. So, pretty please, with sugar on top, shut your fucking mouth.
Mardi Gras Britney:
A collection of random big-mouth Britney: