It's hard to believe there was a time when we had no Britney Spears, the pop princess from Louisiana, whose smile enchants us as her 55-hour marriage confuses us and her music puzzles us.
But, from all reports, Britney-biz is a lot better than mine and yours (most of you). She's big in Las Vegas now, where you pay hundreds of dollars for a seat in a giant theater to watch her perform before you head to the gambling tables. So she's making a handsome dollar, and has enough income to buy a nice car.
Back here in Realtown, we're happy when we go the extra few dollars for a sliding moonroof, backup camera and built-in GPS, bringing the price of a new Isuzu to just a dollar less than grandpa spent for a whole house back in the day. But people in Britney's income neighborhood can shoot $150,000 for a new Mercedes G-Class and not even worry about the free car wash tickets.
By the way, "G-Class" to me will always mean "Geometry Class," and I would pay you $150,000 not to have to sit through that again.

It's kind of like when Peggy and I used to ride out on a warm summer eve and sit on the tailgate of my old Toyota Tacoma pick-'em-up, swatting mosquitoes and sipping Egg Custard snowballs. I guess Britney and her mom, having spent all their money on this high-tone ride, had no money left over for snowballs. Or folding chairs.
Yes. I'm sticking with that.
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