Dear Mr. Bieber,
I congratulate you on your success in the music business, and I offer my sincerest apologies to you on the age of girls you attract. It must be difficult to get a girlfriend when the only people surrounding you are twelve-year olds. But I digress, I am not here to judge you on your lifestyle. I, Mr. Bieber, simply desire to speak of your music career and offer my humble opinion on, well, you. So let me get on with it, as I do not wish to waste your precious time. I am sure you have many things to take care of.
The first time I heard you, I was listening to the radio along with my younger sister during a car ride. Your hit song, “Baby,” played, and after a few minutes passed my sister quietly asked me who was singing. I told her that I had no idea—as you were not yet famous. So my sister informed me that the song was, “Okay, I guess, but she needs to work on her melodies.”
Mr. Bieber, I am ashamed to admit that I believed you were a female for over two weeks. So now, in this open letter to you, I wanted to express my utter despair at the damage I may have caused to your reputation whenever I spoke of your song.
So imagine my delight to see you set your record straight and show the world that you were no pre- pubescent boy but a man! I was recently informed that you had appeared in a new music video, occasionally shirtless, wearing baggy jeans and other such swag, to rap like a “Big Boy” in the fairly new song, “Lolly.” Although you did tend to slur your words while rapping, the knowledge that I had not done lasting damage to your ego is a relief, and I applaud the collaboration between you, Maejor Ali, and Juicy J in making such an… interesting song.
I, of course, do not personally condone listening to such an illicit and, to be brutally honest, slightly offensive song, but I suppose the tune is catchy to those able to look past the childish innuendoes. Ah, excuse me, my apologies. I did not mean to sound so crude.
But now, sir, I must wrap up this communication between us in this dear open letter of mine, as the deadline is growing ever-nearer towards me. I know, I am sad that I must depart from here as well; this was quite cathartic for me. I do so hope that this is cathartic for you as well—or, at the very least, eye-opening. But alas, I fear you will never find this letter as it is amidst thousands of your screaming tween fan’s mail, and mine is merely an open letter. I hope I have not offended you, Mr. Bieber, as my writing is often unseemly, unstructured, an easy to get offended by—the complete opposite of your songs, now that I think about it!
Adieu, Mr. Bieber. May your luck continue on!