Today’s custody hearing is perhaps the most important hearing of Britney Spears’ life. Of course, ten bucks says she doesn’t even show. According to TMZ

Although she is not legally required to make an appearance in court, Brit needs to explain herself if she’s got any hope of getting her kids back. If she doesn’t show or is uncooperative it could be curtains for her custody case.

Well, good thing the cops that wrestled her out of the house that fateful night will be testifying today, then. TMZ continues:

When [Britney finally came out of the bathroom where she was holding Jayden James], all she was wearing was panties. She was incoherent, screaming at the cops, “What the fuck are you doing in my house? I know who you are. I don’t need your fucking help. You will do as I say.” Before police took her outside, they wanted to cover her with a sweater, and she screamed, “Don’t cover me up. I’m fucking hot.”

Don’t let’s forget her assistant:

[Britney's] assistant told the police that Britney had been “popping pills” all day. Her code for medication was “vitamins” and she repeatedly demanded, “Get me my vitamins!” Officers found a bottle of Prozac in her bedroom.The assistant also told cops that Britney would frequently dress up to the nines for no reason [and] walk around the house and change back.

“Dressed to the nines,” was it? Like — I don’t know — a cocktail dress, maybe? Black tie formal? Your wedding dress? Page Six says

Britney donned the brocade white mini-dress she wore during her post-wedding party with Kevin Federline while car shopping with her new paparazzo-turned-boyfriend [on Saturday]. X17online.com caught the pop wreck splurging on her new shutterboy. [Adnan] got a brand new Mercedes at a dealership in the valley.

Ah, nothing like sporting the reception dress from the marriage that precipitated your downward spiral to begin with. It’s like wearing a red badge of courage, except white instead of red and shame instead of courage. I suppose it’s still easier than trying to walk around with your head and hands wedged in a pillory. Probably a lot less splinters, too. Not mention it’s pretty hard to get your hands on a set of well-made stocks outside of a time machine and eighteenth-century colonial Williamsburg. But lucky for Britney, a wedding dress or a suit fashioned from your own feces still says “fashionably insane” without any of the inconvenience or chafing of the pillory.

Britney’s reception dress:

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