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stungunbilly Aug. 24th, 2002 02:45 pm)
stungunbilly Aug. 24th, 2002 02:45 pm)I was originally not going to post today because-
Camper Van Beethoven! At the American Music Hall! Live!
So off I go.
But then I was watching that BSB special I taped the other night, and I realized that I was having a thought I needed to share.
*NSync is the Pepsi of music, and BSB is the Coca-Cola.
They have the same sort of pointless media “rivalry”, and they are much more similar than different. Also, Pepsi has more sugar than Coke. They are all quite bubbly, and provide stimulation.
But the most important thought for the day is:
Why don’t we get to do a taste test?
They’d both sell a lot more product if we got a sample, you know they would.
[end pseudo-profundity]
Since today’s entry is supposed to be short, should I post a snippet?
Nah.
Well… okay.
Mwaha.ha.
ha.
...
~
Yet a-freakin’-nother snippet
by billy
Chris thought that there was cause for concern when he saw Justin’s name linked musically with that of MC PeePants. Johnny had warned them all that the market wasn’t ready for Justin to reveal links to rap demons, especially those rumored to be giant spiders from outer space. But Justin ignored Chris’ worried phone calls, as he always did lately.
Ever since Justin had started sleeping with JC, he thought he was immortal and untouchable. He even said the “B-word” on MTV. Chris had warned him time and again that JC was too much sparkly boy for a man who wanted the world to believe he was straight, but the infant had merely thrown a big party and encouraged rumors that he was going to father a mini-Jackson. It would have been almost cute, if it weren’t so irritating.
JC simply said that he had no complaints, but then JC had purchased ten copies of MC PeePants’ third album “I Need Candy” and believed Shakira when she claimed she hadn’t done anything sexual in that mud video. The man also had a mouth like a vortex and kept Justin up every night, rendering Little Timba even less rational than usual. Chasez’ claim that Justin WAS candy was not comforting to Chris, who had heard a rumor last week that MCPP had recently consumed twenty-seven fans and a crew member after the Teen Choice Awards.
“The Chili’s commercial was bad enough, but how do you explain to the fans that some of their number has been fed to the alien? It’s just not spin-nable!” shouted Joey via Chris’ cell phone, still tired from his grueling RENT schedule. “This will reflect badly on all of us. Where the fuck is Lance? We need someone to fix this, or I’m gonna seriously feed him to the damn thing myself!”
Lance actually was in contact with the planet of Pee Pants’ origin, and was trying to swing a deal where he got to visit and film the trip in exchange for three MTV vjs and a concert hall full of teenies. There was no help to be found in that direction. Things were getting desperate, though. The Pet Psychic had informed Chris just this morning that Janet Jackson’s chia pet said Justin was up for being consumed on live television at the VMA’s in a bold publicity stunt.
Desperate times call for desperate measures.
He called in Harvey Birdman, Attorney at Law.
That was his first mistake.
~
Um, sorry. But at least *I* feel better.
::smoochies::
billy
Camper Van Beethoven! At the American Music Hall! Live!
So off I go.
But then I was watching that BSB special I taped the other night, and I realized that I was having a thought I needed to share.
*NSync is the Pepsi of music, and BSB is the Coca-Cola.
They have the same sort of pointless media “rivalry”, and they are much more similar than different. Also, Pepsi has more sugar than Coke. They are all quite bubbly, and provide stimulation.
But the most important thought for the day is:
Why don’t we get to do a taste test?
They’d both sell a lot more product if we got a sample, you know they would.
[end pseudo-profundity]
Since today’s entry is supposed to be short, should I post a snippet?
Nah.
Well… okay.
Mwaha.ha.
ha.
...
~
Yet a-freakin’-nother snippet
by billy
Chris thought that there was cause for concern when he saw Justin’s name linked musically with that of MC PeePants. Johnny had warned them all that the market wasn’t ready for Justin to reveal links to rap demons, especially those rumored to be giant spiders from outer space. But Justin ignored Chris’ worried phone calls, as he always did lately.
Ever since Justin had started sleeping with JC, he thought he was immortal and untouchable. He even said the “B-word” on MTV. Chris had warned him time and again that JC was too much sparkly boy for a man who wanted the world to believe he was straight, but the infant had merely thrown a big party and encouraged rumors that he was going to father a mini-Jackson. It would have been almost cute, if it weren’t so irritating.
JC simply said that he had no complaints, but then JC had purchased ten copies of MC PeePants’ third album “I Need Candy” and believed Shakira when she claimed she hadn’t done anything sexual in that mud video. The man also had a mouth like a vortex and kept Justin up every night, rendering Little Timba even less rational than usual. Chasez’ claim that Justin WAS candy was not comforting to Chris, who had heard a rumor last week that MCPP had recently consumed twenty-seven fans and a crew member after the Teen Choice Awards.
“The Chili’s commercial was bad enough, but how do you explain to the fans that some of their number has been fed to the alien? It’s just not spin-nable!” shouted Joey via Chris’ cell phone, still tired from his grueling RENT schedule. “This will reflect badly on all of us. Where the fuck is Lance? We need someone to fix this, or I’m gonna seriously feed him to the damn thing myself!”
Lance actually was in contact with the planet of Pee Pants’ origin, and was trying to swing a deal where he got to visit and film the trip in exchange for three MTV vjs and a concert hall full of teenies. There was no help to be found in that direction. Things were getting desperate, though. The Pet Psychic had informed Chris just this morning that Janet Jackson’s chia pet said Justin was up for being consumed on live television at the VMA’s in a bold publicity stunt.
Desperate times call for desperate measures.
He called in Harvey Birdman, Attorney at Law.
That was his first mistake.
~
Um, sorry. But at least *I* feel better.
::smoochies::
billy