I'll be honest with you, Jonas Brothers. Up until about two weeks ago, I had no idea who you were. You see, I stay very busy with my model trains and disappointingly-not-to-scale replicas of Ewok Village. Some quick research tells me you're a group (gang?) of charming, young virgins who got their start at the Disney Channel. Man, that sounds awfully familar. Where have I heard that before? Oh, that's right! That insane, drug-addled former pop music icon whose most recent brush with notoriety was predicated upon her inability to exit a motor vehicle without wagging her cavernous cooch at passers by. She looks pretty vestal flailing around on the ground after her umpteenth Grey Goose binge, right fellas?
So let's cut the shit, Jonas Brothers. Nobody's buying your act (many, many people are buying your act). We understand you got your start on Christian radio. We understand the majority of your audience is comprised of pre-teen girls and their sexually unfulfilled mothers. We know that, unless you're Jim Morrison, it is considered unacceptable to take the stage and announce, "I just did eight lines of pure, uncut cocaine off of the baby-soft stomach of a fourteen-year-old girl!" We get it. But seriously guys, promise rings?! What are you, twelve-year-old Mormon girls? (Wait, are you twelve-year-old Mormon girls? I honestly can not tell.) Just tell us that Nick had one too many (read: one) Miller Chills and accidentally finger-fucked a groupie, who he has given his heart to and now intends to make an honest woman of. Then, three weeks later, feel free to feed us some bullshit line about how the groupie decided she was better off cleaning the Cheez Whiz stains of the carpet of her mother's doublewide and Nick, though heartbroken, is going to do his damnedest to move on. That's all we're asking. You don't even have to be honest. Just be less dishonest.
Secondly, and more importantly, enjoy this while you can. Do you remember the Hansons, of "MMMBop" fame? Well, they've recently embarked on another ill-fated tour. Would you like to know what kind of venues they're playing, Jonases? Would you?! They're playing the children's play area of every McDonald's across the nation! Alright, that's not true at all. They're playing (and selling out) 1,000-seat theatres in every major city in America. But trust me when I tell you this will not be your fate. If you're lucky, you'll find yourselves busking in front of the Safeway in Sherwood, Oregon while some dead-eyed meth addict blows you for bus fare. That's the reality, gents. Be ready to face it.
For now, however, you should revel in the glory of your recent four-star review from Rolling Stone (an accolade which, at one point, was reserved for a landmark musical achievement but now seems to merely signify the fact that you are an artist who has succeeded in releasing and promoting an album with the help of a major and/or well-funded independent label). Live it up, guys. You're the biggest kids on the block right now, you might as well make the most of it. What would I suggest, you ask? Well, spend a week on the road with Motorhead, for starters. If Lemmy won't have you, I suggest a three-way ticklefight on top of a sweaty pile of money. Now, I know you're wondering, who on Glorious God's green earth would Nick involve in a three-way ticklefight? How about a couple of lovely ladies named "Joe" and "Kevin?" Sound familiar? Like maybe, somewhere in the depths of your homeschooled, repressed psyches, something you've been craving for years? I thought so. Confront it, young lads. Confront your incestual, homosexual urges. And then ask yourself one question: Where's your God now, Jonas Brothers?!
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