Role models. When I hear people complain that sports stars and celebrities OWE their fans to be a good role model I cringe. Sports stars and celebrities live in a privileged word that is not conducive to the real world 99% of us live in.
Justin Bieber is simply a spoiled brat that is in need of a good spanking. I would want to go backstage just to put this punk over my knee and hit him with my mother’s wooden spoon. We are to blame, as a society, for creating this monster. Justin Bieber (for whatever reason) is a pop star. That’s where it should end. He shouldn’t be expected to exemplify good morals and good behavior. He shouldn’t be considered a “peer” among your teenage kids. The only “role model” a child should have is their parents. That’s the responsibility you signed up for when you decided to bring a life into this crazy world.
Justin Bieber expects to be treated differently. He expects you to “kiss the ring.” He illustrates his gratitude of becoming a multi-millionaire through teenage concert ticket sales by spitting on his fans from a hotel terrace. I shouldn’t just single out Justin Bieber for the list of pop culture vermin is long and plentiful. Kim Kardashian became a star because a video tape of Ray J putting his tool in her “no-go hole” went viral. I’m sorry but if that is what it takes to be a “star” I will pass on the initiation.
I am amazed by those that follow and revere any of the “Real Housewives.” If ya wanna laugh at them and their sorry existence I can understand that but to praise them and fuel their gold digging mentality really is a sad comment of your own existence. Let’s call these women what they truly are “Pretentious whores of _________ county” Would you let your child be baby sat by one of these botox injected skanks? Probably not.
I think we all were at one time a “know it all” teenager that was embarrassed to be seen in public with our parents. I also remember something my late father told me in the basement of our home in Strongsville, Ohio: “You will eventually realize that your mother and father will be the best friends you will ever have.”
Dad…you were right. I’m just glad you passed before I had to attempt to explain Honey Boo-Boo.
Last Thursday I had a date with a man. I didn’t know what he would look like but I was sooooo excited for his arrival. I didn’t care that there were other people he needed to satisfy before me. He wasn’t even able to give me an exact time when he would see me. I was told he would be at my house between 2PM and 5PM. That was good enough for me. I had a date with……..THE CABLE GUY!!!!
At 1:45PM I started to get nervous. “He’ll be here soon,” I thought to myself. He was to install high-speed internet so I cleaned my office and made my bed. I took a quick shower and sat down in front of the TV to pass the time. Every fifteen minutes I would get up, go to the window, part the blinds and look down the street to see if he was about to turn into my driveway. Nothing. 4PM shows up. No cable guy. I didn’t want to call the company and look desperate but this is rude. How about a call saying you are running late???
At exactly 4:57PM the doorbell rang. It was him. He was here for me. FINALLY. I opened the door and let him in. I was a little upset with him showing up at the last-minute so I was less than cordial. I sat on the couch while he did his thing. Fifteen minutes later he was gone. No handshake. No plans to get together again. No promise to call. No champagne. No caviar. I didn’t care. He used me and I used him. I had high-speed internet. I was satisfied.