Today, is it possible I have Bieber Fever?
No. No, absolutely not. I have a headache, that is all. No Bieber Fever. There's absolutely no way.
I've been making fun of that little twerp for as long as his shaggy head of hair has been bobbing around. When his songs come on the radio, I change the channel. I laughed when Barbara Walters picked him as one of her most fascinating people of 2010 (or whatever her list is called). I cringed with the Canadian Tenors featured him on their Christmas TV special.
I don't care if he's friends with Usher. Still not interested, Bieber!
Just a few weeks ago, I was talking to a big fan of the Biebs, and I was telling her how I just couldn't - could NOT - get on the Bieber bandwagon. The baby-faced pop sensation is just way too cutesy-wutesy for me.
But then. Then I saw the preview for his new flick Never Say Never. And as I watched the clips of baby Justin growing up, banging on pots and pans and making it sound like music, then spiralling upward into superstardom, from his grainy Youtube videos to packed stadiums of screaming teen girls, I kind of got goosebumps. Chills.
And I found myself thinking, "Dude, where could I find a 15-year-old girl to go see this with me?" Because I'd definitely need a cover. An "Oh, she reallly wanted to go, so how could I say no?" excuse. And I'm afraid my teenaged-movie-buddy Brittany (big Eminem fan that she is) just might not be into the Biebs.
Sick, I tell you. I'm sick.
Britt, if ya wanna go, gimme a call.