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January 8, 2004       |       Today's Terror Mood Ring: 2003 nostalgia.       |       Happy Birthday, Wolfgang Puck!

Learn Italiano!:"Wham, bam, grazie, signora."
Wham, bam, thank you, ma'am.

Crockpot.

WHO'S THE POP DIVA QUEEN NOW, BITCH?

BY
CHRISTINA AGUILERA



Hey, whassup whassup, everybody! Xtina here and I want yíall to meet somebody special. This is Raul and ~ he is beau-ti-ful, no matter what they say... ~ Heís a dishwasher I met last night when I was puking in the dumpster behind a Vegas strip joint. Heís from Ecuador, and guess what? We got married! Thatís right! Last night at like three in the morning, an onshore sea captain with powers vested in him by the state of Nevada declared us Man and Wife, and I officially became Miss Christina Aguilera-Sanchez. Aww yeah! How you like me now?

Raul donít speak English much too well, but thatís O.K. because I am Latina, and I am from the barrio, and also I took Spanish that year I went to high school, so Raul and me, we can communicate fine, and anyway, we speak in love, which is beyond borders. And also, sometimes in backdoor love. Aw yeah, baby. Genie in my bottom.

But guess what? By the time I woke up this morning, my manager had already forged my signature on the divorce papers. Aww snap! Iím a free woman now, yo! Watch out, boys, Xtinaís on the prowl! Iím hot and hungry and horny like I got coupons for IHOP!

Wait! Wait! Everybody look at me! Over here! I can lick my nipple! Uh huh! I can! Watch me, I can lick both at the same time! Take a picture! Hey, look in my mouth! Aaaaaaaah. You see? I pierced my tonsils. Aww yeah, I did!

Hey! Hey, Iím Christina, damn it! Everybody pay me some undivided, now! Look at me, or else Iím gonna go marry this guy named Michael Richards. Naw, heís not Kramer! Heís just this guy named Michael Richards. I donít even know him, I just looked him up in the phone book. Heís one of six M. Richardses in the tri-state area. So what if we haven't even met yet, Iím sure as shit heíll marry me by sundown.

Hey, and guess what else? I kissed Madonna, too, you know! Lotsa times. With tongue. And also, Cyndi Lauper! Uh huh. And also that manwoman from Eurhythmics -- fucked 'er. And Charo. And Cher. And that waitress from Olive Garden. Aw yeah. That's right.

Oh! Oh, also I got a tattoo. You wanna see? Take a look at my luscious ass. It is curvy and fine and it is ~ beauuUUUu-ti-ful, no matter what you say... ~ And you see right over here? It's a tat that says "Britney who?" Awww yeah! Now forever after when people look at my luscious apple-bottom ass, they gonna say, "Damn, Christina! Britney who?" And I'm gonna say, "That's right." Word. I heard on "Access Hollywood," they were sayin' about me having an inferiority complex. I don't know what that is, but if Britney's got one, mine is twice as big.

So I got two ex-husbands in various stages of proposal or ex-husbanding, I kissed Madonna and more, I got dirrrty with Justin Timberlake on tour, I dyed my hair ~ beau-ti-ful ~ brown, I found my ethnicity, I won three hot-dog-eating contests... I ask you: Who's the pop diva queen now, bitch? Word.





Write to Y.P.R. Write for Y.P.R. Right on, Y.P.R.

Crockpot.


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