Today, on this blessed day–December 2–we join together once again in Spearit to light vanilla candles, take our Holy Eucharistney (Starbucks Frappes and a bag of Cheetos, the blood and body) and sing the praises of our beloved B, for she has delivered unto us the Book of Godney and the Psalms of …Baby One More Time, Oops!…I Did It Again, Britney, In The Zone, Greatest Hits: My Prerogative, Blackout, Circus and Femme Fatale.

Our voices ring out in celebration from all across the land–from Catholic school classrooms, to the sensual suites of the Onyx Hotel, to deep inside the Fantasy forest, to the Neighdar horse stables, to the pink Louis Vuitton Hummers in the sky, to the dirty post-apocalyptic sewers below the city, to the strip clubs, to the aisles of Target, to the popcorn-littered seats inside the Circus tent, to the surface of Mars alongside the Curiosity rover.

We, the loyal followers of Godney, bow down in reverence for her tireless efforts to defend us from the mediocrity of lesser-basics. We encourage others to go to the light and see Jesus. We drink Pepsi and think young. We use constructive criticism. We are true stars. We are cool, funky and urban. We hate fuckin’ waiting. We scream, we shout and we wonder aloud: OMG Is Like Lindsay Lohan Okay Like?

She’s the original. She’s unforgettable.

Happy 31st birthday to the sensual seductress, the enchanting mistress, the ringmaster, the original doll, the Femme Fatale, the legendary…Miss Britney Spears.