Having shown a level of persistence that is rare in multicellular organisms, the lawyers that have been trying to win Britney Spears' custody battle finally abandoned their sisyphean task.
"Britney Spears' child custody lawyer"... Boy, there's a job for you. That's like being "Hitler's P.R. guy" or "Getting a date for Quasimodo" or "Shirley MacLaine's therapist" (tell me that last one wouldn't qualify for danger pay.)
Speaking of which, given the prominence of certain figures in the national media over the last years, I think American girls are ready for a new doll: Totally Dysfunctional Barbie. She comes with a bottle of Jack and a bag of blow and none of her outfits have underwear. Instead of Ken, you get the choice of three different boyfriend dolls: the prissy movie star, the abusive rock legend, and the boneheaded jock. Barbie's Fashion Mall is kind of old fashioned looking these days (plus, the escalator was a bitch to get working right) so instead there's Barbie's Rehab Center, where she and Skipper can hang out and dictate tell-alls between movies and concert tours.