Culturally Insensitive: or something like that.

Dear Post Coital Couples, anyone who has strawberry blonde hair that I have referred to as a ginger, and any men who can grow a beard bigger than mine, which I know isn’t hard but still fuck all you guys:

Pop culture is one of those things I can generally do without in my life on a regular basis, but it’s also one of those things I really fucking love being part of my life. It’s a conundrum, I know. But good god it’s a really large issue for me.

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And honestly it raises questions internally that I come to find I have about myself. Like when I’m standing in a group of friends three days after I tell my girlfriend that pop culture doesn’t matter that much to me, and I’m trying to play it cool, glaring at friends through my horn rimmed glasses and flicking the cherry of my clove cigarillo, listening to all of them go on and on about the drivel that takes up their lives and then one of them says something like “ugh I can’t believe the Kardashian’s are even still relevant” and then something clicks inside me and I feel this need to defend the honor of these strangers I don’t even know and I come back with something just undeniably ridiculous like, “Excuse me what the fuck do you mean by that? The Kardashian’s are one of the most relevant groups of celebrities today!” And then I see them judge me and I’m quick to cover my statement and make it sound like I was truly just being sarcastic by following that up with “Kim gave one of the most memorable blow jobs of our time!”

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Everyone lol’s. Crisis averted.

For now.

But then I remember how close I was to admitting I have a problem.

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I think my brain gave up hope on trying to justify my cultural likings. Obviously I won’t be that guy who justifies going to see the next Nicholas Sparks movie because honestly fuck Nicholas Sparks and fuck his movies. Did you even bother taking time to see ‘A Walk to Remember’? That was the last culturally relevant movie that was made based on a book of his. You can put eight million Zac Efron’s and twelve Ryan Gosling’s into a Nicholas Sparks film but no matter what the context, even if you make them have the all time greatest homosexual on screen romance with graphic animalistic sex scenes, but you cant top the performance Mandy Moore gave to that film. Honestly, when she died, I died.

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I don’t believe anyone that says they didn’t.

I digress…

The problem, is that my tastes, while firm and finite in my mind, are scattered all over the fucking place like the lost souls of celebrity children who end up cutting their hair, experimenting with drugs, and filming themselves taking it on camera.

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For example. because I know this isn’t going to resonate with everyone, lately there have been a multitude of things that hit home for so so many in their heart of hearts. But for so many other reasons than the actual ones that I enjoyed them for.

Like ‘Hotline Bling’.

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You remember it. Drake, came out of the woodwork following some bang up tracks that put Meek Mill’s name to shame when he was trying to have a disgustingly simple rap battle over the interwebs. And suddenly, in all it’s glory, there was neon glow, backgrounds, and Drake. Dancing alone.

Why on earth was it so good? Was it good because of it’s healthy and incredibly catchy tune? Yes.

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Was it good because Drake is a cultural icon for anyone that feels the need to continue finding beer pong relevant and require background jams to get them through the fact that everytime they miss a shot they are admitting to the world just how inaccurate they are, both in sport and in life? Yes.

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But the reason it resonated with me? Drake officially gave his okay to white men everywhere to get drunk at weddings, bar mitzvahs, or whatever culturally boring event they want and dance like they are five stanky legs away from shaking out that bowel movement they have been holding in for an hour. I can literally scoot my pelvis around, point my fingers, and generally just wave my hand in different directions, and no matter what happens, if someone tries to call me out on it I can just start singing “You Used to Call me on my Cell Phone…” and they chuckle, and I continue my generic whitebread dance, and we all get along and go home after the wedding or four year old’s party at Chuckee Cheese and the whole world falls sleep saying something like…

“Damn, remember how awesome Alex was at dancing that hotline bling jig?”

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Straight up I have an issue with how I view things in the entertainment world. Are you enjoying watching American Horror Story this season?

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Awesome, me too! But guess what, not because its quality television! This whole baby vampire plot line was some twilight bullshit that Ryan Murphy ripped straight from the headlines of every article about how Twilight made a lot of money and teenage girls wanna watch Vampires scrump and feed on each other.

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And thank GOD we found all the hot gay actors to use as an opportunity to make GAGA appear well suited for the season, am I right ladies? Because that’s totally gonna work out when you become famous and come face to face with Matt Bomer and he feigns interest so he can keep scoopin on your male date’s wing-wang. Because how else would this season work, what with all of the awesome garbage they’re visually stimulating our eyeballs with, like blood, bleeding, and things covered in blood. Go team GLEE! You learned how to scare five year old kids with no imaginations!

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Want to know what does it for me? I am watching eagerly because I am hoping that eventually there is going to be something that genuinely scares me. I have such hope after the first two seasons that there is going to be something that would genuinely scare me, and then they went and put out two seasons filled with timid characters trying to find their ‘real selves’. I know…

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Gripe Gripe Gripe.

But seriously that’s the draw for me! I want that horror that genuinely instills fear in me. I haven’t seen an actually scary movie in SO LONG. I used to do a podcast centrally focused around movies and I even said on there that the horror films that get put out today are just a gross misrepresentation of what directors think we will be most afraid of, like gore, and sex, and gory sex.

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The Human Centipede series was legitimately the most mind numbing thing I have ever seen, even watching a persons mouth be pulled by needle and thread into the anus of another human, only to consume their poo and continue on in life as the nazi science project they are. Still no scare.

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Horror has lost its edge man. You wanna step back on the band wagon? Make some horror films about scary ass shit. Make me a horror film where you pull up the McDonald’s Drive through and everyone inside has been murdered and its late, and you know you cant go in there but the sheer fact that you wont be able to get that Big Mac you showed up for in the first place is just fucking terrifying lets be honest.

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Do you see where this is headed? I am a confused man child who cant get a grasp on what it is he likes. The good movies bore me. The boring movies make me horny. And porn just doesn’t cut it anymore. Give me plot! Stop picking up girls on the side of the road and banging them in the back of a van. There is nothing sexy about that.

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That’s how you get the clap.

Am I honestly supposed to believe you just pick up these women who look like someone that has been rode hard and put away wet, and your first thought isn’t ‘How do I know this woman is clean?’

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You’re just going to chance it? BangBus I DON’T BELIEVE YOU.

I am going to be the guy that likes Batman v. Superman or whatever because Ben Affleck gives a stellar performance that I can actually hear because he isn’t grumbling through his overbite like that half bit hack Christian Bale used to. (Thank God)

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I am going to be that guy who gets stoked when the next Adele record comes out because I want to hear a female singer that might actually put out an album that doesn’t have more than one song on it about how a guy did her wrong. Adele already did that. I have high hopes that this one is going to have like A SINGLE song on it that references whatever sad bro gave up on a thicky thicky thick girl and now she hella famous and he’s shootin smack on the weeknights because his rent check bounces.

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I WILL STRAIGHT UP BE THE GUY WHO GOES TO SEE EVERY SINGLE TYLER PERRY FILM WHEN IT HITS THEATRES BECAUSE THOSE FILMS ARE EMOTIONAL GOLD. Not to mention the plot twists and sincerity that goes into the man’s work is just inordinately good! I give zero fucks! If you cant Madea then friends we can’t be-a.

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Do you understand internet? The straightforward course that you’ve all been running is misguided!

And now I’m here to fix it.

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One post at a time.

Sincerely,

Someone slowly slipping into the depths of irrelevancy.

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Be Underwhelming: Rules for Impressing Lovers on Vacation.

Dear Mom and Dad, Wegmans and whoever plans to travel soon,

I wanted to let you know that I heard your caution to take things slow during this new relationship. The advice you gave was clear and concise and any normal human being would heed your warnings.

But much like the time you told me not to try making s’mores in the toaster oven, and though I still maintain they would have tasted great regardless of the house burning down, I have chosen to ignore your decree.

And so in an attempt to woo my new lady of the night (no she’s not a hooker she just works until 6 so I usually only see her in the evenings), I asked her to go on a vacation.

I know what you’re going to say…and honestly, I feel like we have known each other for years! I really feel as though I know enough about her to invite her on a long car ride to meet family members I usually wait until the second Christmas to introduce.

I believe it was the wise Chris Brown who once spoke of amorous feelings when he said:

“I’m on some new shit, I’m chuckin them deuces up.”

Such wisdom. He most certainly does not GAF.

(Mom this means ‘give a fuck’)

And so we set out on a drive down the east coast to Virginia Beach for one unbelievably relaxing vacation. I figured I would just update you and let you know about all the rules I learned about vacationing with lovers and the plethora of events we got to experience together making our power couple status comparable to that of HOV and Bey.

Rule 1:

You’re going to want to get an early start on your vacation. In this case I made sure to accommodate our circumstances well. When I say circumstances I mean she drove the whole way. So as a surprise, and in order to ensure she wouldn’t have to hit rush hour traffic or be driving late into the evening, I set my alarm for 4:30 a.m. just to make sure she was wide awake and ready to cart our asses around.

Don’t worry, I used Miley Cyrus for an alarm ringtone so she would wake up really happy.

We stopped at McDonalds for breakfast, and I couldn’t decide which breakfast sandwich I wanted her to buy me more, bacon egg and cheese on a bagel or a biscuit, so I just ordered both with a coffee and I definitely should have gotten the biscuit only, the bagel was sub-par but whatever I didn’t buy it.

Well, whatever the mud they called coffee actually is, it ran through me quick and I had to stop at a rest area. Plus it gives your beau a half hour to stretch their legs while they cart your Ms. Daisy ass around.

Rule 2:

If you stop for bathroom breaks, take your sweet time. You’re gonna be on the road a while, and even if your partner doesn’t have to go, you don’t want to rush.

Also, in the event you clog the rest stop toilet, I know you are wondering and yes, definitely tell your boo as you exit the bathroom. They will be proud and they will congratulate you with things like:

“Those things are made to take down anything and everything…just…how?”

“You’re so pretty”

Rule 2a:

Fart.
Fart a lot.

Rule 3:

If you stop anywhere for an hour or two, and there is a mall nearby, and you’re a man, prepare to be there for three to four hours. I don’t plan these things well, and I like shopping, but somehow whenever my new boo takes me to the mall to grab

“a strapless bra”

it really means

“new flip flops, a maxi dress, wait maybe this maxi dress, or this maxi dress, can you pick one of these the navy with gray striped maxi dress or the navy with charcoal striped maxi dress, never mind I’ll get both, new hat just in case there’s sun, probably a soda, but no not that soda, I want the soda from that place, ew this one has zero carbonation, probably a haircut at this Sears salon would be cost affective and convenient because we’re here, don’t you need sweatpants oh well whatever I’ll just wear them, oh I work here so I get a discount we should walk the perimeter of the store eight times just in case I can use my store discount maybe, do you think it’s warm enough for flip flops maybe I should return them, oh and did you want to stop in the Chik-fil-a we originally came here to eat at?”

Rule 4:

As a passenger, it is your absolute duty to entertain the driver. They are going to get stressed, and you are going to hit traffic, and when you hit this traffic and they double down with exhaustion and anxiety and all they want to do is sleep and stop driving, that’s when you have to up your game and prove you are the best car co-pilot ever as well as a useful lover not just during the secks.

Tell them how good they’re doing. Things like:

“Honey, you’re overreacting you just need to learn how to merge properly.”

“That was the exit a half mile back you just chose not to get over so we’ll just find the re-route.”

“Your emotions are surprisingly tame for having your period, that in itself is something you should be proud of.”

And when THAT doesn’t work, pull out the big guns, and distract the other drivers trapped in the gridlocked hell by smushing your beautiful face against the passenger side window. Your driver will laugh through her tears and that four car fender bender you cause will be a distant memory in thirty to forty minutes.

Rule 4a:

Definitely take a lot of pictures of your girlfriend even if they don’t want you to, like in the rain or when they’re trying to “snuggle” or whatever.

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Rule 5:

No matter how good of a person you are, don’t fuck with the universe by saying things like “we made it safe and sound” a block from your destination…

…because the universe will summon animals, like Bambi…

…and your driver/girlfriend will barrel into Bambi’s skull at a high rate of speed…

…and she will have another panic attack because this is the first deer she has ever hit EVER and she will of course, have just been talking about how nothing has ever gone wrong with her car since she’s owned it just before this occurs.

Definitely keep your thoughts on safe arrival to yourself.

And whatever you do, don’t refer to your lover as Bambi murderer or Venison creator for the rest of the trip.

Rule 6:

Take some time for you. Get a pedicure. They are fantastic.

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The chairs assault your back like you owe it money, and they do all kinds of things to your feet that you never knew you could do. Like shave them, lotion them, and give your legs a massage that could make a paraplegic moan with joy.

Rule 6a:

Don’t make paraplegic jokes. Ever.

Rule 7:

Visit all the novelty gas stations/grocery stores/fast food joints you don’t get to in your shitty overbearing town of Albany, like Wegmans, WAWA, Wegmans, Sonic, Wegmans, White Castle, Chil-Fil-A, Wegmans, IKEA, and Wegmans.

Seriously, Albany, fucking Wegmans. Stop being so lame and just sell booze at the grocery stores this is ridiculous.

Rule 7a:

Something to keep in mind when traveling is that your bowels are on a fairly strict regimine. Disruption in the form of temperature change, altitude change, or even the stress of having to criticize someone else’s driving for a week can block you up for some time and that can get uncomfortable.

Definitely DO NOT get food at the above locations and pile it on top of the compounded issue.

UNLESS! You have never tried them before…

In which case, in order get the spicy chicken club sandwich with waffle fries, IKEAS Swedish Meatballs and a salmon dill wrap, McDonalds at least twice, a buffalo chorizo based egg dish for breakfast at a kick ass diner, any and all breakfast sandwiches at WAWA, seafood at the Virginia Beach shore in grilled and fried format, a gigantic bagel sandwich at a cute sandwich shop, a giant bagel schmeared with cream cheese also because YOLO, and a creamy chicken and spinach Alfredo.

But be warned, piling this internal organ layer of food together leads to the next rule.

Rule 8:

When you stop up your hotel rooms toilet, you absolutely positively need to notify your lover first. It doesn’t matter how invested in the current episode of ‘Flip it to Win it’ they are, you shut it off, look down at the ground shamefully, and then inform them that you’re going to have to be a little late to the free beverage and cheese hour at the hotel lounge because there is an inch of toilet water on the floor in the bathroom.

Then call maintenance. Priorities.

Then when maintenance arrives, say something to the effect of:

“I have no idea how that happened”

or

“Does this happen often?”

Then, because your insides didn’t suffer enough the last five days, go eat enough cheese and creamy pastas to block up someone with IBS comparable to that of Pompeii’s eruption.

Rule 9:

Because you got a great deal on Priceline from that guy from Star Trek, you are located on the 8th floor, in a private bode where silence is encouraged and loud noises are frowned upon.

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Take this opportunity to prove to the world that even though you’re not super well endowed (thanks a lot mom and dad), you can still get the job done.

I’m not saying to have the sex loud and rambunctiously while you’re on vacation, but I am saying you should at least spend some time slamming your palm against the neighbors wall while you make noises similar to the ones you’re going to hear when you visit the zoo the next day.

You’ll feel better. I promise.

And you definitely won’t cry by yourself eating leftover room service from the night before because your girlfriend “needed to hit the steam room for some alone time”.

Rule 10:

When you visit the museums your bae wanted to see, definitely opt for the audio tour. Even though they will complain afterwards about how much of a pain it was, it earns you an hour of silence while you pretend you’re listening to your tour but really are enjoying not hearing about how “tired” someone is from all the driving she has done.

Rule 11:

Other states don’t have the concept of always being hungry grasped, so you need to be aware, places like Richmond and Virginia Beach, close down their restaurants at 2 p.m. right at peak “grab a samwich somewhere to tide us over” time and then they don’t re-open until 5 when it’s dinner time.

You should definitely look like a man in front of your new girlfriend and freak out because you’re hangry and there is no where to get a god damn peice of food that isn’t from a seven eleven and you should definitely blow it out of proportion and pout because girls love that shit and when they tell you to stop being dramatic you should definitely blow that shit out of proportion and say things about how you should just break up then because obviously she doesn’t value your relationship when you can’t get a fucking sandwich after walking around all goddamn day and only eating a handful of goldfish.

(I used to have a temper problem and I’ve really been working on it at the request of my mother, and I think we can all agree looking back on rule 11 that we learned a really valuable perspective on how well we’re doing because we haven’t had an outburst like that in a while, and we are super fortunate to have a girlfriend who will at least wait until we get back home to break up with us so that we don’t lose control in a foreign state)

Rule 12:

If you do get pouty, definitely make sure when getting off your exit to go back to your relatives, that you exact revenge on the driver for calling you a princess and telling you to calm down by telling them you know where you’re going, and then saying left here, right there, for fifteen minutes before you end up in a church parking lot and then admit you have no idea where you were going and then when your girlfriend gets upset you have the upper hand and can say things like:

“Now who’s being the drama queen?”

You win.

FINALLY, Rule 13:

Make sure you tweet everything that happens. Broads love twitter. Document the trip, you’ll be better off:

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Still taken but unsure why,

Me.

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A ‘Dear Justin’ Letter : On behalf of the World.

Dear Justin,

Hey man.

Yeah yeah, I know I know. I’m great. Stahhp it.

But listen, I wanted to reach out because I feel like you need some support. It seems like you have hit that awkward teen stage in life where you lose all sense of your pre-pubescent roots, and now your grasping for friendly hands as you drown in your own errors.

Like many teen starlets who started out at a young age, you’re traveling down a very dangerous road and the world is watching as you’re on your way to becoming yesterday’s garbage-y news.

I need you to understand, you’re not the same person you used to be, and I’m not sure what happened between you and Usher but first thing is first, you gotta get that man back in your corner.

That Scooter guy you have walking around with you is clearly not doing his job. Look, do you remember when you first started out?

You had so much promise. You had your very indelible vocal abilities and your hair was everything girls wanted atop their boyfriends head when they met up with them after first period in senior hallway.

You were young, blossoming and about to embark on the world of fame, but you got thrust into it way to hard. Touring must be difficult for such an attractive guy, and I feel you on that front, what with the bags under your eyes and then trying to maintain such juvenile and boyish looks.

We are basically in the same boat there buddy.

Take a look at your earlier work though…

In ‘Bigger’ on your debut album, you spoke about how the haterz look small to you because you are bigger than they are, and your love was bigger than them.

Your maturity was flourishing. It was almost like an adult had written that song and you performed it…

…which we know isn’t the case since the music industry is filled with people who write their own music and don’t sell out to larger record labels to only put out glittery shit-storms of poppy goodness.

I mean you had lyrical genius back then! Remember ‘One Time’? It’s probably been a while since you sang it live but you showed off your basic math skills to us repeating ‘you plus me’ over and over…

To tell a girl that her world is your world, and that your heart is her heart?! That’s some shit people usually save for marriage.

Biebs, even I don’t have that lesson figured out.

Then you dropped some gems like ‘One Less Lonely Girl’ which assisted in building, and populating your fan base. Honestly if having young girls following you around and exploiting the fact that they all believe every word you speak is meant for them is wrong, then I wouldn’t want to be right.

Even ‘Baby’, oh dear god, I think even I looked at you with a glimmer in my eye.

It was a masterpiece, and your dance skills finally came to the surface in the magic video. You even got Luda on the track!

LUDA!

And lest we forget Selena!

You landed the most age appropriate and gorgeous teen star that hadn’t become a meth-addicted cat lady yet. Have you SEEN her lately!? She is fine as hell! And you gave that up?!

She could have like, anyone in the universe, and you took a pass on it after a year or so of dating?!

She’s doing great for herself too! ‘Come and Get it’ was like a summer anthem for me thanks to an overly obsessed ex that insisted it was the only thing we listened to while we were making out.

Do you know who the world has seen you running around with since the break up?!

Jaden Smith.

Not even the cool one, Willow!

He told kids they should drop out of school Justin! What kind of example is that to set when a revolution is in your hands? (Side note: if y’all are still close, give him a swift kick in the nuts for the travesty that was the ‘Karate Kid’ remake)

Look something went terribly wrong man, and I know what happened.

You cut your fucking hair.

No but really, hear me out!

That was all it took, and then you began your spiral. From my point of view, here is what I saw happen:

You started REALLY young and you were good at what you did, and then puberty hit, you styled your hair differently and you gained the classic child star confidence that my exes all seem to gain after they leave me.

Nothing phases you and you’re out to prove to the world that you’re the best there is.

Your balls dropped and there was a legitimate crisis in the universe about whether or not you were going to be able to pull things off with a deeper voice. And you did! But then you got some tats.

Justin, tattoos are in fact cool, and they should be really meaningful too. But like, look at some of the things you’ve permanently put on your body…

What do they mean Justin? And why would you get a king jerking off in front of a castle? That doesn’t even make sense…

Then you started becoming this angry ball of fire that I just didn’t know anymore. Do you remember the time you threatened the paparazzi in your car?

You used the f-word.

I lost some respect for you that day man.

And from what I gather so did Selena, because before we knew it the two of you had separated and she was back on the market. I’m sorry I sent her so many letters pleading with her to love me and telling her I would treat her right, I just got caught up in the moment.

We’re still cool right?

Then you stopped wearing the purple and black combo, the largest error in my opinion. You switched to wearing all these really dumb ridiculous clothes that don’t even make sense to look at.

Sometimes you just didn’t wear clothes.

Then your new album drops and it is just filled with poop Justin. Your voice is so good and you are doing songs with Nicki Minaj?! That’s like Justin Timberlake doing a duet with Taylor Swift.

It’s poop Justin. You have to utilize your powerful voice again, you can’t just go around singing about heartbreak from a relationship you yourself ended.

And you tried to come up with a catch phrase but it didn’t even pan out for you! WTF is ‘Swaggy’ Justin?!

Lil Jon had ‘Yeah’ and ‘Okay’.

DMX just used to growl and bark at his listeners.

…but even so they both worked out for them.

‘Swaggy’ sounds like a combination of sweaty and saggy and neither of those are words people want to think about when listening to your performances.

Try harder Justin.

Then you started getting in trouble with the law and all hell broke loose. You were speeding around residential neighborhoods, putting children’s lives at risk, and pissing off your neighbors.

Justin do you know how to be a neighbor? I live next to a sassy elderly woman who gives me vegetables from her garden to make soup. The other side is a house filled with teenage drug dealers, but they leave me alone and only contact me to notify me that there is a chicken loose in my back yard and they are dispatching search and rescue teams.

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They’re not jerks though. They’re nice people. It’s something you need to work on.

But recently you’ve become a monster. DUI? Drugs?

Your drinking the syzzurp Justin?

Do you know who drinks the syzzurp Justin…?

…Lil’ Wayne…

Do you know who takes him seriously Justin?

Nobody.

Nobody takes Lil’ Wayne seriously.

Everything you’re doing is super negligent and irresponsible. I even read that you called a young fan a ‘beached whale’. Have you seen ‘Blackfish’?! Whales have enough problems to deal with, without having to worry about you using their name to cut a young girl down and make her feel like garbage.

You’ve become hardened Justin, and today I read that you were arrested in Toronto for an assault on a limo driver.

What did he do Justin?

Did he make a wrong turn?
Did you arrive late to an event you were going to bitch about being noticed at anyway?
Did he not chill the bottle of Crystal you aren’t even legally able to drink yet?

…did he call you out on your bullshit?

I’m not a hater JB, but right now you need some tough love.

What you need is a game plan to get back to where you were a few years ago. Here’s what I’ve come up with for you:

1. Deal with all your legal hooplah. It shouldn’t be a long or hard process, you have a lot of money, and your pretty face wouldn’t last a night in jail without getting passed around more than a football in an NFL game. No judge is going to put that tight little…

… complexion of yours in danger.

2. Let your hair grow out a little. Like, a medium length. Or shave it. You need to find out who your true friends are, and there is no better way to learn that than by fucking with one of the main reasons your famous.

3. Stop putting out songs with terrible artists.

(Not you BIG SEAN, ‘Dance A$$’ is an anthem for me)

Sean Kingston? Eenie-Meenie-Miney-Mo-Lover? Really?

Also, I’m not sure what you were thinking, but I’m pretty sure I speak for the rest of the world when I point out that collaborating on a song with Chris Brown about love and what a woman means to you kind of speaks for itself nowadays…

From now on do it on your own or only pick from this list:

Trey Songz
Ne-Yo
Ariana Grande
Jordin Sparks
Willie Nelson
Maroon 5
Outkast
Britney Spears

Remember, you want to stay relevant. I know it’s in the works but really, cancel your collab with Limp Bizkit.

Classy. As. Fuck.

4. Dress like a good person. You wanna know who is relevant in the minds located in women’s pants?

Understand?

5. Stop breaking the law.

Don’t drive like an asshole, we have enough non celebrity humans in the world to do that. Obey traffic laws, and don’t be a shit head behind the wheel.

Drugs are dumb, but weed will be legal in like two years anyway prob so can’t you just wait instead of going on blunt cruises and bong-rip road-trips?

Stop spitting on, yelling at, insulting or laying hands on…well anyone. It’s not becoming and you look like a super huge douchebag. There are a lot of normal people out here that can handle stardom better than you are so use common sense and stop being so mean all the time dude.

Finally…

6. Stop making movies about your life to stardom. If people want to see you perform they’ll buy a ticket to your show. If they want to see pre-fame Bieber, it’s on YouTube. There are so many other celebrities the world would prefer to know the history of, so pump the breaks and stick to walk on roles in like really terrible parody movies.

That’s what dying talent does nowadays.

Okay? Do you understand Justin?

Please, on behalf of the world, and your fan base alike…

Stop being shitty.

Fondly but realistically, your probably number 678 fan,

Alex

P.S. Start writing your own songs. ‘Beauty an the Beat’ is horse shit and for you to be able to party like it’s 3012, you want to party like you’re dead. Is basic math man.

Also Nicki Minaj is obnoxious. Common sense bud.

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Help! I’m single : An open letter to Bruno Mars.

Dear Mr. Mars,

First and foremost, I would like to say how unbelievably talented you are. I don’t know how you do it but you are just bursting with an essence that should make all men question their sexuality as well as purpose on earth, and bring all (hetero… Nah fuck it, all of them) women to a place in life where they experience shortness of breath.

If I were forced…

…I mean really forced to pinpoint the center of your certain je ne sei qua, like gun to my head from some mad man that very clearly has his priorities in life screwed up being like, “I am absolutely going to shoot you in the face unless you tell me exactly where Bruno Mars’ excellence derives from. I am not even fucking joking, pal!”, I would probably have to say it’s your voice.

Then I would probably have to call the police.

But let me be real for a second, as a heterosexual male, I’m gonna be dead honest and say solely based on your voice alone, I’d probably let you take me on several dates and treat me like the most special person in your life, ultimately resulting in a quick and hasty celebrity marriage and an untimely and quick divorce, lit up and fueled by gossip sites and other loud-mouth celebs.

We all know Usher is a fucking gossip queen.

He’s jealous of what we have. Shhh baby. Don’t speak, we’ll be fine.

Obviously telling you how great your voice is can’t be the reason I’m writing you, I mean is it ever? Illicit image blackmail? Long lost child seeking support off your millions? No B, alas I too seek something from you, but nothing as crass or insensitive.

I just seek your advice!

You see I’ve been bumping ‘Hooligans’ and ‘Unorthodox Jukebox’ a lot lately and I have begun taking notes and asking a lot of questions based off your songs. I mean it really seems like you have your shit together after that little white powder incident, so what better time than now, the new year to seek your advice?

Look, I’m practical which is why I’m writing and not showing up at the front gate to your exceptionally beautiful home. (Though while were on the subject, the painting you chose for above your bed is a bit tacky, I mean I could barely see it from the tree outside, but if you say it goes with the rest of the room, then I guess it must)

So with your surplus of sex-appeal it would be greatly appreciated if you can answer some of the following questions and confirm what I have learned from an in depth analysis of advice you’ve clearly laced into your pop hits for me to help land my dream girl…

…or at least a one night stand that doesn’t resemble Charlize Theron’s portrayal of Aileen Wuornos.

I gotta get back on my a game here:

Treasure:

I got a little out of my league taking notes on this one. First you tell this one of a kind babe that she’s treasure, which I assume is good because that means she’s a gem, or a plethora of currency?

But then I get confused, because you ask her to make your dreams come true by letting you treasure her…which seems to imply that you don’t actually know this woman personally, and if you do she very clearly isn’t letting you dote on her like you and I both know she is supposed to be doing. Should I be approaching women I’ve never met before and telling them how valuable they are to me? Is this the key?

It’s clever…using the word treasure twice, to both express a verb you would like to implement into a person to person relationship, as well as to use it as a noun to express flattery toward a woman. Perhaps, we can switch the noun to another more specific valuable to avoid sounding overbearing and redundant. I came up with these ideas:

•a Franklin
•savings bonds
•Sacajawea dollar
•grandmas crystal teardrop lamps
•Apple stock

Marry You:

This one was way easy for me to comprehend. I’ve been planning my wedding since I was like 15, B. So I totally get the whole ‘Lets rush into this full steam ahead with no care or thought’ feeling you speak of.

First though, you say you’re looking for something dumb to do on this beautiful night. Is this the secret to happiness with a woman Bruno? It makes sense…because when I use key words like ‘love’ or ‘forever’ or ‘I’ve thought about it for a while and I could see myself with you’, girls get all antsy and it usually doesn’t work out.

All the gays make such a stink about how the sanctity of marriage is a joke and it’s not even remotely fair that they aren’t granted the same rights as hetero-couples…but fuck them right? Marriage is something to do in our downtime!

Just to clarify, when I am pursuading this girl to refrain from saying:

‘No, no, no-no-no’

I should emphasize that she just say:

‘Yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah’

And also ply her with shots of tequila?
This sounds fishy but whatever gets me to the altar, B.

P.s. Should I be serving ‘Dancing Juice’ at the wedding or inviting a lot of ‘Dancing Jews’? I just want the special day to be perfect and your enunciation is a smidge muddled in the chorus.

It will rain:

Tell women that their absence brings about the shittiest of weather…

…ahem…

‘When you’re busy and don’t involve me in your plans, you cause things like hurricanes and rack up exponential damages in monetary terms.’

Check.

Locked out of Heaven:

This one didn’t really help me much. I’m not a very religious person to begin with so I don’t really know what being locked out of heaven feels like, but I’m guessing not good.

If so why would you tell a woman she makes you feel that way? Unless this is one of those reverse psychology things? Is this song essentially the key to dealing with how to interact with females?

I mean as a guy you do tend to see women walking around with guys that say the meanest shit to them and treat them kinda poorly, but somehow they get to spend their time together as a couple. I guess you just kind of assume that there are women out there that are looking for nice guys. But there really aren’t? Are there?

‘Be a dick.’

Check.

Young Girls:

Waste a lot of time on underage women that will ultimately wear you down and kill you.

Got it. Check. We are killing this, B.

Runaway Baby:

Preface any and all hang outs with new women by insisting they get as far the fuck away from me as possible and if they don’t, make more demands of what they should be saying in response to you yet again.

Jesus, I have been approaching love all wrong.

I am glad were going over this, B.

Just The Way You Are:

You threw me again on this one, B. You keep telling this girl all these thing that should be flattering, but she won’t listen or doesn’t believe you?

It sounds like you’re saying to be really nice to women even though the end result is going to be comparable to popping a Viagra and running belt-buckle first into a brick wall.

Unless…

…since women don’t believe us…

…is the message to…

Lie to women?

Oh, thank god we are going over this, I really would be in trouble out there on my own.

Also, focus a lot on the girl’s face? The body not so much?

Check.

Grenade:

B. You lost me.

All this talk of lying, alpha male tactics and a demanding no-shit-taking attitude, and then you tell me I’m supposed to risk death for women that treat me like nothing I have or do is good enough?

That sounds more like what I already do to entice women…and that hasn’t worked…

…and like pain and physically violent situations are really unappealing to me, so like, blowing my arms off or fending off a knife wielding attacker with my bare hands are things I think I truly may not want in my life.

Awkward artie photo 1431hd2.gifI did come up with a few alternatives that I would be willing to (although I’m still not fond of) compromise on and implement in my expression of devotion to a woman:

•I’d hit a speed bag pretty aggressively for you

•I’d really let the waiter have it verbally for not bringing more cheddar bay biscuits for you

•I’d suffer a substantial paper cut, but not from anything thicker than Manila folders, for you

•I’d let a sizably smaller man than me punch me in the shoulder ONCE for you

•I’d absolutely take a bullet, but only under the circumstances that it’s a clean through-and-through located near no vital organs and the situation leads to a lawsuit allowing me to live comfortably through the rest of my days on earth, for you

As long as none of those stand out as not good enough to you B, I don’t think we have to spend anymore time with this song.

Gorilla:

I saved the most important one for last. Since this song is about making the sex, I figured all the wooing should be dealt with ahead of this.

You know, I always wondered why my bedroom game wasn’t up to par with all my other guy friends. Like…as you know, us males actively spend our sleep-overs discussing our tactics and technique and never for one minute did I gather that I may have been doing something wrong.

Just please confirm if you will, that the three steps below are how the sex actually works? I’m not doubting you, B, you know exactly what you’re doing.

First: preface the sex by drinking a lot and do cocaine?

Second: be super aggressive, loud, cause a scene, have the police show up, have a…SWAT team show up?

Oh hell no Pushing Daisies photo ohhellnopd.gif

Third (and most important): make sure we are “fucking like gorillas”?

Check, checkity, check-check.

Awesome! I’m really glad I got this all down, I think I’m really on the way to seeing a change in my dating life. Thanks again for throwing all those sub-textual pieces of advice in your songs for me and only me. I just knew we were meant to be friends.

I look forward to your response and confirmation to all my questions, but in the meantime, I think I’m gonna go try a few of these new tactics out!

Cheers!

Love,

Alex

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