A Day in the Life of Justin Bieber

CityGuru I wake to the sound of "Baby, Baby". I don't bother to shut the alarm off, I love hearing the sound of my own voice. I listen to an entire album before I drag myself to the bathroom and have my hair stylist do my hair eleven different ways before I decide that I want the hair the way I always do: the perm.
As I take the escalator down to the first floor, I eat breakfast, then drag myself out to the car, where the 1100 diamonds glisten in the sun. I decide to go to the supermarket today before the big concert. Maybe I'll pick up some girls and leave them on the side of the road. Perfect way to spend my Saturday.

I make sure to drive past all the houses in my neighborhood so I can show off, then make for a beeline to the supermarket. I enter the market and go to the dairy aisle to get some eggs. 'This should last me the afternoon,' I think.
I push and shove my way to the front of the line, where I then attempt to leave the store.
"That'll be 36.89."
A nasal voice brings me to my senses and I find myself staring into the eyes of an ugly lady.
"Excuse me, but do you know who I am?"
"Why should I?"
I make a mental note to talk to my PR man. Now this is just unacceptable.
I decide to take the eggs and run.
"Stop, thief?" she cries. Aha, the perfect name for my new album, which resembles a bunch of cats being bombarded with sharp rocks.
I sprint for the exit, but an old lady in her 80's catches up to me. Luckily, the girls wrestle her away from me.
I escape, but the police catch me quickly because I am going slow by the houses so the residents can take it all in.
I hear one of my songs playing through my open windows. Yep, it's definitely my beautiful voice. Wait, no. That's the siren.
When I run out of gas, I am surrounded by police men.
"Oh, no. Not you again."
It's my old buddy Felipe. I see him almost every day.
"Just give us the eggs so we can go back to our stupid day."
"No, what I did was wrong. I must go with you in your cop car."
"H*** no!"
"No, no, I insist." It is so sexy to be in a cop car.
Great for my public image. Ladies like the bad boys.
I reluctantly give the cops money to pay for the eggs. I clambet into the cop car and wave goodbye to the girls.
"Make it snappy. I have a concert tonight." I say.
"Listen buddy. We don't want you in here. So we dictate the speed, got it?"
"I'll sing go you!"
We accelerate from 30 to 85 in 3 seconds.
We arrive shortly at the station, where I hail a taxi after several attempts. I am quite famous among cab drivers.
The driver determinedly does not look at me.
Soon I arrive home and have my prep team do my makeup. I put on a wig and get ready for the concert.
Soon it is time. I drive my second car out of my five level garage to the concert. I managed to get a gig at the local bar.
When I get there the microphones are already set up. I am a little late, only about 2 hours. Childs play.
I start singing Baby Baby really loud. However, I start to feel sick. I puke all over the stage. However, the music keeps on playing and the prerecorded version of my singing keeps playing. I try feebly to lip synch.
But it doesn't matter. My voice echoes off the walls. My voice fills the room, mostly because there's no one to fill the room anyways.
I sing a couple of songs, then decide to leave. I stumble home in my car, get ticketed 5 times for drunk driving when I'm driving around the neighborhood. Finally, I arrive home. I get in the shower. A rare occasion, but I have to make exceptions. I'm covered in puke.
I sing in the shower, then hear the next door neighbors voice through the window.

"Tell your to cat SHUT UP!"


Bless that moronic moron. - PositronWildhawk