I awoke this morning to the sounds of some tragic and fatal accident wafting through my room.
I thought I had died and gone to hell sometime during the nocturnal hours. Turns out I was not so far off, which became more apparent as the morning progressed.
Upon exiting my apartment at 7:12 am sharp for my work commute, I was met by a female teenager of nondescript age (they all look 16 and drugged to me), wearing a T-shirt depicting some young singer who the teenager blurted out was a certain Justin Bieber (oh and that she now lives in the apartment above mine).
And, she continued, she’s going to marry this Bieber boy and have his love child.
– In the apartment above? I asked.
– No, like at his mansion, like. Ok?
I was slightly relieved at this piece of good news.
– Will you take his god-awful music with you?
– In my heart, she said.
So there is the off-chance that she may be relocating soon.
She is, what I have discovered, a Belieber: a group ( a large one at that) of teenage and not so teenage girls (and some confused boys) who all think they are going to marry Bieber and have his love child(ren)
Heaven help us all.
Especially with a hair cut like his.
Suddenly I found myself longing for the days of the “Lesbians”.