Boo Biebs

If anyone's the kidnap victim of pop culture, it's Justin Bieber. Every couple of weeks we received bits of him in the mail, sleek locks of hair, dark eyelashes, sexy brown eyeballs. I don't really know who Justin is, the man, I mean. Inside. But I know his outer appearance, and that his ranking in society falls somewhere in the category of..."pop star".

I am amazed yet know not why. Well, for one thing, he has a following of lesbian look-alikes. I want that. He's also from Stratford, Ontario.

He's even made it into my university lectures. My Religious Ethics and the Environment class to be exact. My professor - a broad-shouldered, questionably gay 30-year-old whom I love dearly - told the class of 300 students about his night at the Justin Bieber concert. He had promised his sister that he would take his two nephews to the show. Unfortunately the night immediately took a down-turn for the two young boys when they realized that, indeed, only little girls were to worship the Biebs. As the young pop legend emerged prophetically on a large, heart-shaped stage that floated out into the audience, the thousands of screaming girls could not contain themselves any longer. Justin only provoked them further. He asked into his microphone, "Are you feeling...lonely tonight?" At this point my professor had had enough, and turned to the little girl who was screaming next to him. He scolded, "NO. You are NOT lonely." Who then began to cry. He proceeded to wave his finger and cover his ears for the rest of the night. "It was horrible." (In finding this illuminating photograph, we noted that there was PORNO on the side of the web page. We just as quickly noted that this is how the internet comes: with porn on the side.)

I stated that it seemed creepy that Justin Bieber had been displayed so overtly as nothing other than every little girl's most cherished fantasy. We could only imagine how the staff of Justin Bieber managed to extract the exact details of this fantasy from said every little girl's brain. Maybe it went something like this:

"Little girl, what is your most cherished fantasy?"

"I want Justin Bieber on a heart-shaped stage...spinning towards me."

"I see. And what would be the dimensions of this rotating heart stage?"

I now could not help but see all of Justin Bieber's various worker bees hovering around a giant conference room with the little girl seated in a huge wheely chair...surveyors are taking down notes and fiddling with weird measuring equipment, construction workers twiddling levels, CEOs chatting into cell phones and every one basically looks really nervous, while King Biebs himself sits atop a throne eating ice cream.

What kind of bees make milk?

Boobies.

So the next time you think of our homeboy Justin Bieber, just think, Boo Biebs.

AMY + JULIA