I am very happy to announce that the younger sister of Britney Spears, 16 year old Jamie Lynn Spears is pregnant. The father? Why, yours truly, of course! Who else would get the unknown 16 year old sister of a washed up pop star pregnant out of wed lock? What other human alive would have the sexual prowess it would take to bag such a hot piece of ass? Who else do you know would, having done so, tell said youngster “You’re either going to bare my spawn, or I’ll fucking kill you” and then head off into the night in a very fast truck with 12er of Schlitz in tow and promises of “I’ll be watching you”?
Let me tell you the story. Our tale begins at a rural Baptist church just outside of Shreveport, Louisiana in an all white community. We were there at a youth dance, a hoe-down if you will; Her for the dancing and cool summers evening merriment, and me to put the hoe in hoe-down. Well, come to think about it, she was already putting the hoe in hoe-down… so in reality, I guess all I did was lay the hoe down… at the hoe-down. But all clever word play aside, there was nothing cute or childish about what happened as the night ensued. Nay. It was the business of two consenting adults. Or, at the very least, one consenting adult and one very inebriated and only semi-conscious adolescent, but it was beautiful none the less! We danced the night away, and laughed until our hearts content, and the night came to a culmination with the conception of yet another of my minions. There was nothing immaculate about this conception, either. It was pure, down and dirty, two pigs in the mud, glorious, all night, panty ripping, toe curling love making… And it was glorious. Not to mention very, very messy. (Have you ever gotten sweaty and rolled in a mixture of hay, dirt, and cow snot? Well, you can imagine, then, the kind of mess I’m talking about.)
While the news of her pregnancy excited me deep within my loins, as well as my soul, I immediately realized the folly of my actions, being as how I posed as a 17 year old Mister C. Aldridge (My name is known far and wide through out the Great State of Louisiana, and I had no intentions of sullying my fine reputation). After quick and careful consideration, I understood how grave the situation had become and set to work finalizing the details of my escape. One thing must be understood here: My reasons for leaving were of the noblest intentions. That being said: Upon hearing of The Lord’s miracle of life having been bestowed upon their daughter, her parents insisted (demanded) that the two of us be wed the next day in gowns of flowing white by the light of the moon. The thought of having such a succulent piece of meat to forever feed my lust upon did appeal to me. Ah, the perfect nights that we would spend together: Her naked and nursing our 12 children in the kitchen, running to and froe fetching one delicious Schlitz after another for myself, The Jage, and E-Rokk while the three of us take turns trying to 5 star ‘Free Bird’ on Guitar Hero 3. It sounded like the happiest of existences; one I could spend the rest of my life enjoying. Not to mention I would finally get my chance at tapping her sisters cellulite ass. But a dreadful thought did then enter my mind, and heavy indeed it did weigh upon my warm and tender heart. Upon the thought of impregnating both Spears sisters with my powerful seed and having them wait on me hand upon shoeless foot, I began to think not of myself, but of them, and of their happiness. I thought to myself, “You know, even though Britney would be undoubtedly one of the single greatest fucks of my life time, and even though I’d get massive bragging rights for laying a sausage drilling to her lactating breasts, and even though cutting a hole in a trampoline and letting her do acrobatic bouncing routines upon my throbbing man hood would totally trump the Jage’s stripper story, the truth is undeniable, and the truth is this: She, and her lovely sister of 16 amount to very little more than a trailer trash tit job run through a department store make up section. These women, though fit to be bare my bastard children, are in no way fit to be life partners blessed in the Holy eyes of Our Lord or otherwise.” I quickly made up my mind that the best thing for both of my lovely sperm receptacles would be to flee the scene and the Great State of Louisiana immediately, and in permanence.
The rest of the story is pretty short, involving a high speed pursuit down dusty Louisiana back roads, one shot-gun wielding Mr. Spears, a drive through liquor store, and a tape of Charlie Pride stuck in my tape deck. And so I tell you this tale, my heart mildly broken, from the corner booth of some back woods bar in the frozen tundra of old Sioux land. It’s taken me 2-3 nights to get over my feelings for my beautiful Jamie Lynn, and there’s a part of me that thinks there’s a slight chance I will someday maybe feel a shred of something that resembles regret for leaving her and my baby the way I did. But I have done this kind of thing many times before, and I’ve learned that it’s always in the best interest in the young ladies under the age of 18 that I impregnate to leave quickly, regardless of how many of them get kicked out of their parents’ house and are forced to live in a mission. I have yet to make good on the 2 promises that I have left them all with: “You’re either going to bare my spawn, or I’ll fucking kill you” and “I’ll be watching you,” and I can only pray that Jamie Lynn will not force me to. She has made it publicly known, though, that her intents are to keep our baby, so I feel very good about the fact that she will lead a very long and happy life raising at least one of my illegitimate children.
But don’t go feeling bad for Ol’ Nick Fit and his broken heart. He’ll be all right. Instead, let us mark this monumental occasion with much merriment and spirits! Eat, drink, and be merry, for upon this day, good news to you I bring. Three cheers for my, and Jamie Lynn Spears’ good fortune: Hip-hip, Hurray! Hip-hip, Hurray! Hip-hip, Hurray!
All “reports” made by Nick Fit are completely fabricated even those that are 100% true. Nick Fit may or may not even be an actual living breathing human being, but none of that is important. Even though Nick Fit is a representative of Hey Stupid who is paid for his opinions his opinions don’t necessarily represent those of Hey Stupid while they do necessarily sometimes unnecessarily not represent the representation of our opinions. In other words we have no fucking money and it isn’t worth your time suing us because we wouldn’t pay anyway.