Back on Halloween, he took the stage in West Hollywood's notorious and way-too-hip Halloween party, only to be boo'd off moments later.
Then, someone gets a hold of a rent check he onced bounced (marked INSUFFICIENT FUNDS) and auctions it off on eBay.
Then there is the priceless moment caught on tape where he was notified he was getting divorced via text message while being followed around by cameras.
His concerts arent doing so well. In fact, he can barely give the tickets away. Declaring sour grapes at a recent concert in Chicago, Kev used his Cassanova charms to woo the ladies:
"I've been seeing a lot of fine ladies — you know who's about to be a free man?" he asked a few hundred audience members, many of whom attended with tickets the House of Blues gave away free after lagging sales.By the way, The Seattle Times gets the prize for the best headline this month: "No wife, 4 kids, even fewer fans: You go, Fed-Ex!"
And on top of everything else the poor schlub has to contend with, now it looks like his album isnt doing too good. In fact, its pretty damn near terrible.
According to BreakingNews.ie, everyone's favorite punching bag's latest forray into the realm of music has sold about 7,000 copies, debuting on the Billboard top 200 at 151st place, far behind Meat Loaf (#8), Justin Timberlake (#3), and Barry Manilow (#2).
Our favorite line in the BreakingNews blurb is the following:
Joking about what he'd do if the album didn't perform well on the chart during an MTV interview last week, Federline said: "I would probably poop on myself."
Which leaves us wondering if perhaps a box of Depends undergarments shouldn't be included on Fed's latest concert rider, which (thanks to the Smoking Gun) includes Jack Daniels, Grey Goose Vodka, and aromatherapy candles.
So, thank you Kevin. Thank you for not only giving journalists, comedians and morning show jocks material for months, but for giving everyone in the world hope that their lives couldn't possibly be all that bad. Who needs anti-depressants to counteract the effects of our pathetic lives when there are people like Kevin Federline around.
Fourteen minutes and fifty-seven seconds... fifty-eight... fifty-nine...