Thursday, February 05, 2004

"it's like seeing sinatra"

i've never seen an episode of survivor. i've never watched american idol. i've never read any of the harry potter books (an insurmountable triumph, considering i worked at a bookstore for 2 1/2 years). i never got my hair cut like rachel on friends. i've never been on atkins. i've never done the macarena. i've never pondered, 'who let the dogs out?!' i don't watch oprah. i've never purchased a fake louis vuitton bag off the street. i think paris hilton is a twit (nicky is where it's at). and perhaps most tellingly, i've never seen an episode of trl.

therefore, since i have steadfastly held true to my repulsion for the bandwagon (although i do watch newlyweds. i'm not made of stone), i think i am allowed to slip every once in a while. i mean, who can blame a willowy 17-year old for dying her hair black, pretending to hate boys and scream 'girl powah!' with her best friend goth spice at a spice girls concert? and who among you can hold it against a 23-year old writer for loudly rejoicing at the train wreck that is britney spears while being secretly magnetized, lured into her hillbilly spiderweb?

what i mean to say is, don't hate me because i'm almost 24 and excited to sit in a shitty upper bowl seat to watch the sure-to-be bloodbath of a britney spears concert. how can one NOT go? i'll let you in on my reasoning:

1. kelis is opening
2. at the spice girls concert oh so many years ago, a 12-year old girl was sitting next to me dressed like sporty spice, and when i say 12-year old girl i mean middle-aged queen who kept grabbing my arm and shrieking in my ear. it was the best. we're getting married in the summer.
3. britney is the next madonna, although unlike the real madonna, britney will never grow out of her trashy 'i'm so drunk right now' mascara-smudginess. (in case you were wondering, xtina is the next cher. live with it. do YOU believe in life after lube?)
4. kelis is opening and her entire album is about the old in-out.
5. i live in orlando. it's not like austin or nyc, where the shins or the drive-by truckers or slobberbone or the polyphonic spree just decide to play a show. wilco came once, and they had to play in a gay club because it was the only venue large enough. okay? so don't judge.

in conclusion, i believe that my lack of shock/outrage at the janet jackson jug display (a floppy boob exposure by a washed-up, thin-nosed jackson? we should be LAUGHING, not crying about it to the fcc, who are just useless minions anyway) has earned me the right to let it all hang out this march 29. i'll be there in my silver nipple-plates, rolling my eyes.

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