To their Skipper and the Professor. Mary Ann doesn't count; she's always listing to port and you know she's spiking her fiber shakes. But the other two, especially the big burly one, still talk down to you. Why does he always belittle you so? What's really behind all that feigned resentment and sexual tension?
You know, if you're not careful you'll all become just another casualty of the business. And what made you think it would be any different? Like any other stage parent, you had your day in the sun, and you never got quite enough of it. Now you're living through your child, and that child has shown more potential than even you thought; she's right on the edge of being all that you never quite were. It's not all she's on the edge of, though; do you realize how quickly this could all be gone?
It's like the song says, "If you feel it, must be real", right? I remember when you first hit the big time. You were a slutty Catholic girl who was the biggest pest on the New York club scene, just wouldn't leave the spin jocks alone until they'd play your songs. It was your image and flair for controversy that made you a star than any musical talent you may have had. You were the original media whore, and you reinvented yourself - successfully - more times than anyone in history.
What is this, Requiem for a Boy-bander? I don't even remember which one you were part of; I guess it's not that important. The point is those were the best years of your life, and it's all been a letdown since. Am I right?
Let's face it. You can sit for those carefully orchestrated interviews and tell the world about the close bond you share with your daughters, but the results suggest a much different reality: one fabulously wealthy and hopelessly scrambled (that boob job before she was old enough to vote and then the pregnancy thing ... ouch), the other so utterly miserable in the life you shoved down her throat that she did the unthinkable to get away. And you call yourself a mother? The only thing separating you from the orange one is your sobriety. All the same, I think we know where your girl gets her crazy from.
You know, there's a lot of people who say that if it wasn't for her, you'd be nothing more than the child of a famous person. That little gig you had together put both of you on the map. And really, what have you done since then except skip a few meals?
There was that big fight. You know, the one that you won't talk about except to say she knows what she did. Then you both got in trouble, with her going away and you getting pregnant. Now you're a mommy and she wants to party again, but you'd rather stay in. Setting her up with the ever-present brother was a stroke of genius, but my God, what will you do if they marry and decide to breed? The world is already overrun with lunatics and losers. See what I mean after the jump.
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