Malibu, CA - This is no way to live. Seriously, I’m going to have a meeting with Dante about this.
It’s bad enough that I’m stuck on that Bieber kid’s thigh, but why did he have to make it so I’m constantly staring at his crotch? This is the worst kind of torture, and this is coming from a guy who’s been crucified.
And do you have any idea how sweaty this is? My whole existence is coated in leg sweat. If this kid ever grows hair south of his eyebrows, I’m going to be in real trouble.
I get it, he’s religious. In that case, he should have given me higher billing than upper thigh. I mean, he put my name on his ribs in Hebrew. Now that I think of it, that makes no sense. He’s not Jewish, and I spoke Aramaic. Where did he get Hebrew from?
And, while I’m a handsome guy, I have to imagine that I’m a bit of a mood killer. If he and that Vanessa chick ever actually get around to it, I don’t imagine she’d want to see my mug. Oh, and did I mention I’m front and center in EVERY CONCERT? This fucking kid sings non-stop. In the shower, at home, I swear he even makes those chipmunk noises in his sleep.
Dad, why hast thou forsaken me? Until that kid realizes what a mistake this was, I’m left staring at a fleshy tic-tac pendulum day in and day out. For the love of me and all that is holy, please get this kid a gift certificate to a tattoo removal place.