Gulp. Rachel swallows her pride, her morals, and jumps head first into Hypocrite River.
Yes, mes amis, I admit it. After heading up the Banish the Evils of Pop-Punk Council of America, I was wandering around Borders and I purchased... Good Charlotte. Maybe, if life were kind, I would've hated this CD. But no. Oh no. It couldn't be that simple. God is intent on making me the biggest hypocrite around. I love it. It's been in my CD player in heavy rotation since I bought it on Thursday. I sit in my room, bobbing and swaying back and forth in time to the music, and I can't help but think, "Wasn't it me who said, 'Emo is ruining the world'?" Oh yes, it was. And yet, I find myself singing along to the numerous tales of the stife in the lovelife of Good Charlotte's lead singer, Joel, who I have aptly titled, "The Sensitive One." It's like in that show, 2gether... they all have jobs in this band, other than the obvious one. Joel's is to cater to all the many shy 13 year old girls, who swoon over his deep insights and poetic nature. I'm still working on the other members' titles, but I'll get back to you.
By the way, the Banish the Evils of Pop-Punk Council of America has since put me on probation. I can still carry the title of President while they investigate this matter, but my active duty responsibilities have been passed off to that fuckface in the Oi chatroom, who is by far "punker than thou". Also, they've stripped my priveleges, including my Diner's Club Card, my free movie pass, and my permanent parking spots at Clutch Cargo's and St. Andrew's Hall. Oh, and they took my hat, so aptly labeled "B.E.P.P.C.A.: President", but I figure, hell, I can live without the hat hair.
Good Charlotte. Pop-punk at its finest. And if it wasn't such a hypocritical statement, I would proudly proclaim to everyone I know, "Oh yes. I love Good Charlotte. Go buy their CD. There are many good, poppy, happy fun sounds awaiting for you." But, considering I'm trying my best not to sound enthusiastic and girly about them, I will limit my input to this: "Fucking Good Charlotte. Made me a hypocrite. Dick heads. If I ever met them in an alley, I'd fuck them up. Yeah. So what if their music is fun and happy? So what if it's the best happy, fun summer album I've heard in awhile? I could still take every one of them, with one hand tied behind my back!" There. Does that sound punk enough to you?
By the way. Billy from Good Charlotte, we're getting married this summer. You can reach me at B.E.P.P.C.A. Headquarters to find out all the information. We can even meet first, if you want. Whatever.