Much-Maligned Television Shrink with Mustache Unable to Convince Britney to Get Real

We do not want to write one more word about Britney but we have a responsibility to you, the reader, a terrible person who revels in the misfortunes of others. We do it for you, friend. So here goes.

1. B was released from the mental ward early this weekend, despite her family's misgivings. It's widely speculated that our girl is suffering from a severe bipolar disorder but is ignoring advice to check herself into an inpatient facility to get help. And they may have completely fudged that up by having Dr. fricking Phil, of all people, shuttled up to her hospital room as she was packing to leave. Says TMZ:

Sources say Phil tried speaking with Spears for about 15 minutes -- not an hour as Dr. Phil's press release states -- but she wanted none of it. We're told Phil was doing almost all the talking. As for walking with her to the car on her way out -- again, as his release states -- we're told if he was walking behind her, that's news to her. She absolutely was not accompanied by him.

Uhhhh. That sounds pretty sane to us. However, although Britney might be saying no to the Phil, she may have said yes to the PILLS.

2. Even though a source close to Cedars-Sinai says that Brit's pee test was totally clean, she totally did a million and five pills! A "source close to Britney" told our gossip pharmacist, Female First, that Brit downed some purple drank and then:

"She ended up taking 20 Clenbuterol diet pills, 18 herbal speed tablets, 18 Piriton anti-histamine tablets, 12 Vicodin painkillers, 10 sleeping pills and eight antacid reflux tablets. She also drank one bottle of Pepto-Bismol, two bottles of NyQuil and two bottles of OxyContin painkiller, and took a further 10 anti-hangover drugs and six Ritalin tablets."

Awesome, so aside from the Vikes and the Oxycontin and Ritalin, she raided Grandpa's medicine cabinet. Did she also take 14 Centrum Silvers, some Parkinsons meds, and a tube of Anusol? Now that's an awesome high. Britney should write a book, a new Go Ask Alice for the tween generation, documenting the dangers of geriatric pharmaceutical abuse. "Dear Diary: it is raining. It is like God is weeping for me from heaven. I woke up this morning on the beach, the distinct rumble of an entire bottle of Caltrate in my stomach, an empty tube of Lanacane next to me. I don't even have bursitis."