Britney bottoms out

So here's what happens after you hook up with a pathetic skeezer like Kevin Federline.

You let him knock you up -- twice, you have a complete meltdown, you drop the kid, you get investigated by child services, you destroy your once-formidible marketability, and you end up on a public downward spiral.

Then you dump him ... by text message.

So what's next?

Apparently, you dump the kids on the nanny and party like it's 1999. You hang out with Paris, and then you show your poonani to the paparazzi.

After Paris dumps you for not being "high class enough" (ouch!), you hook up with a male model who is *almost* as skeezy as your ex.

Next you throw up in public a couple of times, make an incomprehensible post on your Web site about how you want to reconnect with your fans, and fall asleep at a New Year's party you got paid a couple hundred thou to attend.

If *that* wasn't enough, you check into rehab, and then check out a day later. Then you show up a beauty salon and *shave* your f'ing head, and then go to get some ink at a tattoo parlor.

What happened, Brit -- Sinead O'Connor pop up on your Ipod play list while you were on a Red Bull bender? What's next -- wandering around looking for the aliens to take you away to the mothership?

Get help ... because seriously, not only does that look *not* work for you, its a bizarro world when Fed-Ex can be considered the responsible parent.

Bald Britney ... you are officially on crazy watch.