So we're all reading Ronan Farrow's Britney article in the New Yorker, right?

Hey all, sorry I haven’t sent out as many newsletters in the past couple of weeks — I’ve been taking time to ~relax~ and visit some loved ones. But I’ll be back to regular posting next week (including bonus posts for paid subscribers)!

In the meantime, obviously the only thing worth talking about right now is Britney Spears’s Conservatorship Nightmare in The New Yorker, and unsurprisingly, Ronan Farrow gets all up in it. I won’t go through it piece by piece, but I just wanted to highlight this particularly bonkers piece:

Butcher recalled Lynne replying that the conservatorship would last only a few months, and that it would be best for Spears to resent Jamie, rather than her, when it was all over. But, after they joined Jamie in the conference room, Butcher said, Lynne began talking about her hopes for how the conservatorship would be managed, prompting Jamie to shout about his control over his daughter’s life, including Lynne’s access to her. At one point, Butcher recalled him bellowing, “I am Britney Spears!” It was a refrain she would hear him repeat often during the early years of the conservatorship, she said. Lynne, as Butcher remembered it, grew quiet.

Y I K E S. Poor Britney, and shame on her family and the courts for keeping her in this horrific situation.

See y’all tomorrow with the Monday internet roundup.

Love,

Kat