Tag Archives: justin bieber

Lame Adventure 160: Eight-Step Program

Today is my friend, Coco’s birthday.  Her natal date coincides with the opening of Justin Bieber’s concert movie, Never Say Never, not to be confused as I was with the 1983 James Bond film Never Say Never Again.

That film was actually a new adaptation of Thunderball, a Bond film released in 1965.  This remake was the final Bond film starring Sean Connery, who had initially stopped playing 007 in 1971.  Connery’s incentive to reprise the role could have been for only one of two reasons, he was tossed a mountain of money, or more likely, he wanted to flaunt his junk again in a wet suit at age 53.

Ten days ago, I received an email from MovieTickets.com inviting me to “enter for a chance to win a date with Justin” at a screening of his film in my hometown.

My invitation.

Doesn’t MovieTickets.com know by now that I am in the over 40 under death age demographic?  I see films with subtitles called Late Stage.  While reaching for one of the air-sickness bags I stockpile in my desk I heaved and wondered:

Me:  Why is Justin Bieber remaking James Bond now?  Is it because they have the same initials so this smiling haircut thinks he can do anything?

Eventually I realized Justin was starring in an entirely different film.  I forwarded the invitation to select members of my posse announcing, “I can so easily say never to this.”  In an email reeking of snark, Coco asked if that film was on my must-see list.  I snarked back, “Thought I’d treat you to it for your b-day so you can access your inner pedophile.”  Chomping the bait, John-Mayer-sleeve-tattoo-loving Coco sounded off about Justin’s lack of appeal.  She did not mince her words about why she considers this latest teen idol unworthy of her time.

Coco's turn-off almost freeing his willy.

Coco's turn-on with come-hither look.

This gave me a light bulb.

Eco-friendly and energy-efficient inspiration!

Coco has recently relocated from the Hamptons to the city.  Although my paltry wages were reduced 20 per cent in January 2009 by my employer, E. Ben Ezer-Scrooge, a fellow in deep denial that the cost of living increases, so due to my financial limitations it is impossible for me to go gift-giving nuts.  Yet, I can afford to use my vast imagination.  There has yet to be a tax for being clever.  Now that I’ve pointed that out, New York City should soon find a way to issue the first think tax in the nation, where I’ll find myself paying several pennies for my thoughts.  It occurred to me during my latest brainstorm that since Coco loathes Justin Bieber and loves the city, I should marry the two in the guise of her gift.

First, I went to my neighborhood news seller and picked up two magazines, one devoted to cover boy, Justin, and the other, this week’s issue of Time Out New York.

"Hi Coco, let's play Crazy Eights!"

Coco's bible for where to go to get trashed.

When I returned home, I went online and ordered a subscription to TONY for Coco that will start in four to six weeks.  Then, I slipped into my Dr. Frankenstein lab coat and went to work.

Step 1: Open the Bieber magazine to the centerfold.  Observe the picture.  Yawn so loudly, several agitated hounds bark.

This wholesome image is definitely a dart board somewhere.

Step 2:  With stainless steel letter opener designed by Enzo Mari in 1962, slip the letter opener under a staple and lift.  Repeat with second staple.

Best. Letter. Opener. Ever.

The right tool for the job.

Step 3:  Lift out guts of Bieber magazine.  Save for wrapping fish.

Staple standing at attention in gutted Bieber-rag.

Step 4:  Open TONY to center section.

TONY's centerfold.

Read excellent Joke of the Week by Dan St. Germain.  Photograph joke.


Step 5:  See Step 2.

Step 6:  Slip the empty Bieber magazine cover’s staples into microscopic holes in now staple-less TONY.  Go blind as you fumble doing this 1,073 times or until you lose count.

Step 7:  Accomplish Step 6 — hide TONY inside a Justin Bieber rag cover.

Opposites not attracting.

Drink alcohol.

Step 8: Regain enough vision to do a mediocre wrap job.

Trademark mediocre wrap job.

Lame Adventure 127: Don’t Leave It to Bieber

I was trying to read The New York Times online, but I suffered momentary ADD when I was distracted by an image of a bespectacled middle age male model in a shirt ad sporting an utterly ridiculous Justin Bieber-style haircut.  This made me wonder if there was a picture of a bespectacled Justin Bieber out there so I did a Google search to appease my curiosity.  Sure enough, there he was, the tween heartthrob and his mother’s retirement plan, wearing utterly ridiculous oversized spectacles.

A cultural low point.

Even New York Patriot’s quarterback, Tom Brady, took some heat when he appeared to be wearing Bieber-inspired locks.  Body beautiful Brady would have made an infinitely more attractive cotton shirt model.

Brady-Man vs. Bieber-Boy

A once again bespectacled Bieber posted a cringe-inducing rap video where he mocks Brady’s hair and takes ownership of the do indicating he’s never heard of the Beatles.  In 1964, a reporter asked George Harrison what he called the band’s hairstyle.  Harrison quipped, “Arthur.”

The Fab Four and Arthur.

Upon viewing Bieber’s awkward and embarrassing rap, which I hope he’s forced to watch on his fortieth birthday so he can feel my pain, it occurred to me that Bieber makes best forgotten Vanilla Ice appear to have been the second coming of James Brown.  One particularly Insightful Viewer posted this comment about Bieber’s rap:


(For you pedants out there, “WIT” is an intentional Insightful Viewer spelling.)

When a 102 pound 16-year-old falsetto is influencing how men’s shirts are sold, this confirms that the planet is overheating in the worst way.  If Mad Men’s Don Draper were an actual retired 80-something ad man living in today’s world, and he had not succumbed to lung cancer, cirrhosis of the liver, or a massive coronary while getting horizontal with someone other than his wife, seeing ads like Cotton Work would have surely provided the tipping point that makes him happy to check out in 2010.