justin beiber, his sorrow, and what it means to professional surfing
I just want to know what is the matter here …
< – – where does this attitude this come from?
I know a guy who lost his wife to a rabid pit-bull three years ago, she was torn down and chewed away for days before someone forced their way into the house and shot the dog.
The dog had busted through a fly-screen door and leapt up onto her bed, she had been bed-ridden with cancer for five years and it just chopped through her hands as she tried to hold it back. The dog stripped her back to her old bones.
It stayed in the house for three days, feeding on the corpse.
Her husband stayed with us for six months after he buried his wife of 65 years, the woman he had deserted thirty years before she died. He wore the tragedy hard, but not as hard as old Justin is seeing it ^ .
This kid is hurting big time, you can see it, and we need to buy his albums to help him out – and if you think that corporate surf isn’t paying attention to the Beiber Babies then you aren’t following the Ripcurl Gromfeast, Gromsearch.
< – – – These babies, look at them, all loaded up with stuff and badged beyond belief – and all of them convinced that they are the new face of surfing.
The kid in the middle .. what is he ? Five? Eight? A winner nonetheless in Ripcurls’ shaded eyes.
So what we are saying here is that in a couple of years when these little chaps are kind of shunted off because they grow hair and start to speak clearly and are replaced by even younger little chaps, they should all be able to pull off a few guitar albums with covers as heavy as old Justin’s here.
Because everybody hurts.
with sincere apologies to blasphemy rotttmouth, he started it
petebowes.com 
yes Peter, the wolves do guard the hen house and have the chooks believing that they can become wolves as soon as a new class of chooks is hatched.
justin is a symptom of a youthful disease that requires a professionlly mangaged angst projected as art. he is a byproduct of a system that you point out quite well with Rip Curl’s brand indoctrination. as the next generations find it hard to lift their head from their hand held devices, marketing advantages grow as the audience becomes more susectible.. or incapable.
funny that in an age of instant communication, actual thought is the victim of all the emoting.
also fascinating is the concentration on an ever younger demographic, a race to the bottom.
Ahhh yes. The Sunday School Room… also known as the “Grom Fest,” the “King of the Groms,” or the “Grom Froth Gnar Championships.” Soccer Moms, as they are lovingly referred to here in Yanky Land, are nothing compared to the parents of these “Groms” at all the local contests. All being pushed towards the lie of “Professional Surfing.”
As The Voice says, this Beiber-dom exposes the absurdities of today’s consumption and “Feck it, I’ll do whatever the fark I want, consequences be damned” culture. The obsession of today’s young “adult” population to pursue a twisted combination of pleasure and faux celebrity has resulted in concepts such as pride, dignity, and self-respect, being tossed upon the trash heap of civilization along with absurd expectations like hard work and sacrifice.
Now arguably the male of our species has nearly always taken the lead in racing unrestrained down such hedonistic and self-destructive paths. The male pension for consumption and self-absorption is well documented. However, in the last decade women have kicked their pursuit of equality in terms of career and civil rights square in the nuts, and are now attempting at sub-light speed to “out fail” their male counterparts. And nothing I’ve heard to date better sums up the deplorable and dismaying state of young women today than the abomination coming from my daughter’s room yesterday in the form of Katy Perry’s “Last Friday Night.”
Do NOT look up the lyrics for this song if you wish to keep the contents of your stomach intact.
I now understand why the Chinese, under their now not-so-strict “One Child” policy, would put pillows over the faces of newborn daughters. Who in their right mind would want to raise girls if this is what they’re being told to aspire to?
This is what I face as a parent, Mr. Bowes. This world is a fucking nightmare.
A nightmare that Voice of Reality was fortunate enough to avoid.
There’s a stranger in my bed,
There’s a pounding my head
Glitter all over the room
Pink flamingos in the pool
I smell like a minibar
DJ’s passed out in the yard
Barbie’s on the barbeque
There’s a hickie or a bruise
Pictures of last night
Ended up online
I’m screwed
Oh well
It’s a black top blur
But I’m pretty sure it ruled
Last Friday night
Yeah we danced on tabletops
And we took too many shots
Think we kissed but I forgot
Last Friday night
Yeah we maxed our credit cards
And got kicked out of the bar
So we hit the boulevard
Last Friday night
We went streaking in the park
Skinny dipping in the dark
Then had a menage a trois
Last Friday night
Yeah I think we broke the law
Always say we’re gonna stop-op
Whoa-oh-oah
This Friday night
Do it all again
This Friday night
Do it all again
Trying to connect the dots
Don’t know what to tell my boss
Think the city towed my car
Chandelier is on the floor
With my favorite party dress
Warrants out for my arrest
When I come across a man who is a real ethical vacuum, a real bastard, I quietly curse him to have beautiful, intelligent, independent daughters. I figure that should nail them.
But you should be fine shouldn’t you Rottmouth? I mean from what I have seen of you, your daughter is super-dooper lucky as she has a solid man as her father, who has always been so respectful and ethical in the ways he has talked about and connected with (especially) young women, huh. Never objectifying or sexualising their teenage bodies, never imagining them in any way other than as someone else’s daughter. I mean, being such a stand-up guy, you can only really expect everyone else in the world to treat your loved one’s with similar levels of respect and care. RIght?
So my sincere hope for you, sir, is that your daughter grows up to be beautiful, intelligent and strong-willed.
Aaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!111!!
*BLAM!*
*slumps lifelessly to the floor*
Sorry blas, but there was the challenge you see – and they must be met. Handsome lyrics though, the babe is in the life that’s for sure – six months of that and she won’t know her arse from her elbow.
he’s sad because he has a fucked up hair doo.and has to play straight to sell that shit.put that dog in his room.let those little competitors watch.surfwear wigs are the dog.surf for fun not profit. it’s not a sport.if the dogs still hungry stick it in the parents room.
Are you saying that this is new phenomonen ? Really ?
Need I remind you of back in the day ?
I’m sleeping and right in the middle of a good dream
Like all at once I wake up
From something that keeps knocking at my brain
Before I go insane I hold my pillow to my head
And spring up in my bed screaming out the words I dread
I think I love you
This morning I woke up with this feeling
I didn’t know how to deal with
And so I just decided to myself
I’d hide it to myself and never talk about it
And didn’t I go and shout it
When you walked into the room
I think I love you
I think I love you so what am I so afraid of
I’m afraid that I’m not sure of
A love there is no cure for.
I think I love you, isn’t that what life is made of
Though it worries me to say
That I’ve never felt this way
I don’t know what I’m up against
I don’t know what it’s all about
I got so much to think about
Hey, I think I love you, so what am I so afraid of
I’m afraid that I’m not sure of
A love there is no cure for
I think I love you, isn’t that what life is made of
Though it worries me to say
I’ve never felt this way
Believe me, you really don’t have to worry
I only want to make you happy
And if you say, hey go away, I will
But I think better still
I’d better stay around and love you
Do you think I have a case
Let me ask you to your face
Do you think you love me
I think I love you
Oh, I think I love you
Oh, I think I love you
Oh, I think I love you
Oh, I think I love you
Oh, I think I love you
Oh, I think I love you
Oh, I think I love you
Oh, I think I love you
****
I REST MY CASE…
yeah, but – there was a HOOK ..