Less than an hour after her October 11th appearance in court where she argued with the judge and acted like a spoiled cunt, Britney Spears took a trip to Neiman Marcus and kept the party going. Us Weekly reports:
First the pop star commandeered a dressing room (generally reserved for the disabled) to try on a slew of Juicy Couture dresses. Then, after belting out Rihanna’s “Umbrella,” Spears told her assistant Bret she wanted her dog London. Learning the Yorkie was in Malibu, 27 miles away, she said, “Fuck that. That will take us an hour to drive there. Can’t we have the dog messengered over?” But Spears — within earshot of an Us reporter and other shoppers — saved her choicest words for the judge in her custody battle with Kevin Federline, L.A. County commissioner Scott M. Gordon, whose court she had just departed after a 45-minute face-off. “I hate my judge,” Spears declared to Bret. “He is so mean. Just an old fart. He told me I was being catty with him, but he was being catty with me and paid me no respect at all.”
Britney’s right. That judge paid her no respect at all. He’s just a judge and stuff, she’s a superstar with hundreds of adoring fans worldwide. They should have carried Britney into the courtroom on a giant gold, bejeweled throne as handmaidens fanned her with palm branches and four African women danced around and threw rose petals in the air. Then an old man in a long flowing robe and sandals would read from a scroll, telling tales of Britney’s majestic power and wisdom. The judge would’ve been so ashamed he tried to challenge Britney that he would banish himself to the wilderness, never to be heard from again.
