son... of... a...

I get to the gym this evening and am warming up whilst listening to The Christmas Shoes by repeatedly punching myself in the face, when my eyes glance across one of the many television screens the cardio-folks stare at.
(Aside. For those who have not heard this rant, The Christmas Shoes is the most horrific song ever written, followed closely by Poor Man's House and I'll Wait For You. You can look those other two songs up at your leisure, but here is a link for The Christmas Shoes...
Christmas Shoes
Oh you're going to love this one. This particular version of the song was even sung by a child!! So much better!!
Find a wooden spoon, bite down on it and listen to the song if you don't know it, so the rest of the jokes make sense. Hell, if you know it, listen to this version. You might find yourself down a pound or two from the heaving.
I used to tell the joke that the only way the song would be better, is if the child left with the shoes, went out into the snow, slipped in some mud, broke his ankle and watched in horror as the shoes he dropped into the street were run over by a gasoline tanker, which then ran over him.
I have been trumped. Damn it. I hate being trumped. Kim said, the song would be better if the child realized he wasn't going to have enough money, so grabbed the shoes and ran, then gave them to his mother, who dies, and goes to see Jesus, who turns her away for having stolen shoes on. I think that Kim has some serious issues, which I must say as her joke is more gruesome and funnier than mine.
/Aside)
The gym is one of my few resources of news, because it happens to be on all the time. I either get my news from the gym, Howard Stern or Opie and Anthony. I am a worldly guy.
I see some words, in between punches to my own face, which read, "... Spears... expecting... baby..."
"Ha, ha.", I laugh to myself. "Brit is going to have ANOTHER baby!? Who would want to even have sex with her at this point? Oh MyLANTA!!"
Then my mind taps me on the shoulder and suggests I take a closer look at the screen. But no. The rest of my conscious self doesn't really want to see what is really on the screen.
Slowly, I turn, to look at the full sentence.

Jamie Lynn Spears is expecting her first baby.

God.
Damn.
It.

My daughter watches her stupid show, Zoey 101, on Nickelodeon, and looks up to her as someone who is cool and knows what is going on. You know, like kids do with television people. Now I gotta talk to her about Zoey being frigging preggers.

What is with the Spears clan? Are they all nymphomaniac psychopaths out to destroy whatever good fortune has been bestowed upon them? She's 16 for GOD's SAKE.

If I find out Logan is the father, that is just it.