This piece originally ran in the June 2002 issue of SPIN.
This spring, Britney Spears and Justin Timberlake seemed to call it quits without explanation. Then Timberlake’s laptop miraculously appeared in our office…
‘Sup, baby? I’m in the hotel now. The bodyguard, you know the really big one who protects me from all the girls? He showed me how to hook up this fresh new computer—I didn’t think you could email from a hotel room! That’s how come I haven’t emailed or two-wayed or IM’d or called in a while.
Also, we’re under a lot of pressure. Lance won’t stop talking about going to space and I wanna be like, “Just, go already, dude!” Chris is pissed cause I won’t wear FU-man when I go out dancing cause it looks totally wack on me, and I’m like “Dude, I’m skinny. I can’t wear this baggy shit.” This is why bands like The ROlling Stones break up. The pressure.
Anyway, I miss you and I wish that you were here in Tacoma (wherever that is). Are you still wearing the ring? Every time you look at the ring, I want you to think about the time I gave it to you, okay? How do you make those smiley faces with the keyboard? J
Justin, you know you’re not the only one under pressure, you know? It’s been like five days since I heard from you and when my mom asks me “What’s going on with Justin?” it’s like what am I supposed to say? I’m still wearing the ring, but whenever I look at it, it’s just like “What am I doing with my life?” I don’t care so much when I feel like a girl, but a $250,000 ring isn’t gonna hold me at night when I feel like a woman. I’m sorry if I sound like a bitch but all that Pepsi gave me a huge zit and the photo shoot makeup girl, i forget her name was like “I don’t know if I can cover this all the way.” Who are these people? I gotta go. Sending your big, wet kisses and “the other thing”.
‘Sup baby? What are you wearing? We just rolled into L.A. I’m sorry I haven’t written in like a week but Lance had to borrow my computer cause he’s working on a script about this gay guy who goes to space to get changed to not gay. He told us all about it on the jet and it sounds like a cool idea and there’s a producer who like wants us all to be in it and ever since the Elton thing, I think this acting shit is pretty dope so…who knows, ha ha? Maybe we’ll go to the Oscars together some day and like, win. Elton won’t stop calling by the way. And Chris is FREAKING OUT cause he shaved his goatee and there was like no chin underneath so he had to go like get goatee extensions (thank God we’re in L.A., right?). It’s been crazy. I’m gonna go out tonight and dance just blow off some steam. Don’t worry. I’ll keep my Timbersnake in my pants! Peace Out 🙂 (dude, I figured it out!!!) J
Justin, this isn’t Britney. It’s Lynne. I’m writing because my daughter is much too upset to respond to you so I figured out her password (I know my daughter, it wasn’t hard) and am doing her emails for her. Britney has been out with Tara Reid for hours now. They told me that THEY are getting SPECIAL facials and pedicures because they are very upset and I think you know why. We were all very shocked to open the paper this morning after church and find a photo of you with a strange, brunette woman. I feel that it is my duty to help her deal with this situation in a mature fashion. That said, young man, I feel that I must ask: Who the fuck is she and what does she mean to you?
ALL THE BEST, Lynne
What the fuck, girl? You change your email address? How am I supposed to tell you that I never wanna see your face no more? (I’ll tell ya how! I had to get it from Tara, who was drunk… I mean really, really drunk… I used my new acting skillz and disguised my voice and told her I was MARK MCGRATH and the bitch practically blew me through the phone). So this is how it ends. I get your ring back in a FedEx envelope and my personal assistant steps to me with all these clippings about my girl dancing on tables @ Manhattan clubs and hanging out with Marcus Shankberger or whatever the fuck is name is. Do you know what the press is gonna do with this shit? My peoples is PISSED. I got yelled at for like 45 minutes and shit. The media devils is gonna put us on the cover of the Enquirer and try to dig up every piece of dirt they can, so if this really is the end, just keep that mouth shut (I know that’s hard after like 20 glasses of Cristal) about the details, ai-ight? That’s the least you can do. I guess this is goodbye, girl. 🙁
I’m gonna go out and rebound me some bitches right about now. JT
Jsitin… fuck you. i hAte it when you talk black when you’re upset…. You sound so stupid…. My mom told me that i want to remind you that yOU weres the one who stuck your little dick in that broonet slut (She DIDN’T sAy slut but I am so maDDER)… well now you’re free so do whatever yuo want. i don’t care… TarA and me are having a blast. i’ m never going back to the housth in the hills… i’m having some people box up my stuff (INCLUDING THIS BOOK THE ART OF THE FEMALE ORGANISM WHICH IS GONNA COME IN HANDY NOW) and send it to New York. and guess what else, i met this cute boy named Julian who’s in this band THe Strokes… and they WRITE THEIR OWN SONGS. At FIRSST they didn’t believe I loved rock and rolllll like i saNG but then I did “THE OTHER THING” to them all and now we’re working on songs for mynew album, which is gonna totally change evetryhing people think about me. B
Disclaimer: These are not actual email exchanges between Britney Spears and Justin Timberlake. We made them up because we are single and bitter, but you can’t sue us for that.