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October 24, 2016 | celebrity | Lex Jurgen | 0 Comments
There’s some kind of special pressure not to pause in the middle of your act when you’re lip-synching to pre-recorded tracks. There’s probably a few girls in Senegal with a phonograph who still believes Britney sings lives. The blue tooth is designed to fool you. Just like the guy at the gym on the elliptical isn’t really talking to anybody on the other end. Fake laugh. Sounds outrageous. Is that a supermodel you’re speaking with?
Britney Spears costumery tends to fall apart during her Vegas dance numbers. It might be the only reason for a straight man to be in attendance. The second being hiding out from a mob assassin. For fear that her tits might appear in the middle of a song loosely about how badly her vagina needs to be fucked, Britney’s stage dancers are ever ready mid-song to do a little sewing and stitching. It’s cool, they’re consummate professionals. Also super duper gay. The show must go on. This never happened to Sinatra.