
Dear Jamie,
Perhaps you know that the National Enquirer ran a story about your shenanigans last week in which a bunch of drunks were fighting at a party and you threw your pregnant ass in the ruckus and took an elbow in the kisser. If not, this is what they said:
“Jamie Lynn decided she could break it up, but got elbowed hard in the mouth by one of the boys. She went crazy, screaming at everyone… crying, screaming and covering her mouth. Casey (Aldridge) was so drunk, he just kept trying to hush her up. Lynne Spears called Jamie Lynn and bitched her out for going. Jamie Lynn’s dad Jamie called Casey and told him if anything happens to his daughter, he will have to deal with him.”
Why, Jamie, is it starting to feel like I've seen your life before? Between your sister Britney and the collective catalog of COPS you are oddly comforting in your familiarity.
I was shocked when you announced you were pregnant. I was amused when you were featured in Hustler, though to be honest it wasn't very funny, and I was indifferent to your recent act of going postal.
Then why is it that I feel obligated to write you about this latest incident? What line did you cross that teen pregnancy, porn magazines and the United States Postal Service fail to meet?
The thing is that your latest action only amplified the obvious, you don't make very good decisions, and while the prior mistakes, be they footwear (seriously, what's up?), Casey Aldridge, or picking Nickelodeon over Disney, have had their respective consequences, none of them put your baby at risk.
That's what you did by jumping in between a group of drunk boys fighting. Actually, that's what you did when you agreed to go into a room full of drunk boys to begin with.
You are young and plenty has been made about your age, your family and so on. The bottom line is that regardless of the path that brought you here, here you are, and you need to start taking the necessary precautions to make sure this is the beginning of something wonderful and not just another sad saga in the Spears storyline.
Sincerely,
Whit
No, Candy Spelling did not help me write this. It was just me, 8 cups of coffee and spell check.
Photo: Celebutopia