Dearest Justin, Old friend, I hope this missive finds you well, although I must admit I keep getting you mixed up with the actor who recently died in a fiery car crash. Do forgive my ignorance, it’s just that there is a constant barrage of information about people who will be forgotten before the next fortnightly wave of pop culture shits in it’s own mouth. Watevs! How is your health? I have never heard one of your songs and even though I have seen your face a million times you are as real to me as a dead body in a ditch. Are you even real? Perhaps I could settle the matter by watching one of your music videos, but I want to hang onto my image of you. To me you are what happens when a shotgun shell packed with faeces is blasted into the face of a gasping whore. Haha not really! It’s just that the descent of online news services into an abyss of sucking ad-revenue-need has done bad things to my third eye, which is now an unwiped asshole. Justin, I understand that in the current ...
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