Britney Spears is taking over the world. And by world, I mean the press. And by Britney Spears, I mean her hoo-hah. Having made yet another appearance this past week, the greater population of the United States may possibly be able to recognize Britney’s downstairs better than her face.

But alas, it’s not Britney’s fault. It’s the fault of her washing machine. In fact, the problem lies in the whole concept of laundry in general. Besides your mom, who really likes to do laundry anyhow? Certainly not me and certainly not Britney Spears.

Laundry is such a waste of time, money, and energy. First you have to have the exact change in quarters. And with three other types of coins proliferating the market, your wallet is most certainly never going to have the exact $1.75 needed. Which just means that if you go to the same Laundromat that I do, you have to embarrassingly go next door to Domino’s and sheepishly pile your collection of dimes, nickels, and pennies and ask for the quarter switcheroo. And when they refuse, you have to walk all the way over to I.V. Market. A stern “no” and it’s on to Keg ‘N’ Bottle. And then you just forget your entire purpose of walking into Keg ‘N’ Bottle and you buy booze instead. Laundry equals pyramid scheme.

Or you can do what I do and give up that hard-earned $10 and go get a roll of quarters at Wells Fargo. But that just signals to the bank tellers that you are THAT person…the one whose closet has a pile of unwashed clothing slowly seeping from the hamper, methodically making its way to eat your roommate. My roommate was attacked just last night. The doctors say she will be just fine after a couple years of intense psychotherapy. Sorry Jamie.

Or you can do what I did all summer and drive that laundry on home. Like I said, besides your mom, who really likes to do laundry? I go home, tell my mom some sob story about how there are too many buttons and knobs on a washing machine and – viola! – she whisks the hamper straight from my hands and prances immediately to soap suds heaven. That’s how I always expect it to happen. Mostly she gives me the look. And I march – not walk, march – with my tail between my legs and start the spin cycle. Every time .

Instead of wasting the world’s supply of Tide, I suggest dear Gauchos, to pull a Britney Spears: go commando. It is quite the liberating experience. Let your downstairs greet the world in that big kind of hello way that Britney’s hoo-hah gives us every week. If you do it enough, you could gain fame. And I’m not talking about notoriety here at UCSB – I’m talking the spread of a magazine. (I apologize, I just couldn’t resist.) But seriously, embrace the au naturel. And everyone benefits. There will be more water for the starving children in Ethiopia and more money for you to walk into Keg ‘N’ Bottle with. So save yourself the energy of the 30- second walk over to the Laundromat. Cardio is highly overrated.

Now if you are going to take my mission seriously, you’re going to have to put your heart and soul into this. Trash your detergent. Don’t save a $10 bill every week from your paycheck. Stop talking to your mom. Put a padlock on the dresser where you keep your skirts, for heaven’s sake. And then you are ready… you are ready to be rude and in the nude. Grr! I myself am forging the way to expose my Sharona as you sit in class reading this.

So what if I can no longer bend over to tie my shoes? I never liked tying my shoes anyhow. I’ll make my shoes go commando. And I will never run out of string for cat’s cradle again.

Now it’s up to you, dear Gauchos. Ignore those screams of passersby. They’re just jealous. Let’s see your Britney.