In honour of Justin Bieber’s first arrest and descent into a new level of douche-baggery, an oldie but a goodie
There was a bus stop close to our home in Australia that for a very long time, had a poster promoting Justin’s Bieber’s concert-documentary “Never Say Never”. He’s standing in the middle on the road, and one one side is cold, forbidding, grey Stratford, Ontario–and on the other side the bright lights of…who’s cares what city–it’s AMERICA!
OK… I didn’t pay close enough attention to the ad–that looks like New York city.
Anyhoo, I’ve never give much though to the ole Bieb’s, after all, I am hardly his demographic. Which is why when I told my mother that I had bought tickets to see Justin Timberlake, she looked confused.
“Well I hope that he just sorts himself out after that whole London thing”.
“Wha? No, mom, that’s Justin Bieber“.
“Oh, okay, phew! I was really concerned there for a minute”.
This mistake did allow for the…
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