If I was the type of person who climbed trees (I am), and if I was the type of person to rape myself of any street cred by making reckless, self-implicating remarks about things that I think are cool (Yahweh), then I'm just gonna go out on a limb and fucking say it.
New Kids On The Block was one of the best concerts of my life.
I haven't powered through so many emotions since, you know, the last wedding.
Saturday night. It was like:
Whoa there, okay, look at my knees. Stop bouncing. You look like you gotta piss.
Are they coming out over there? Side entrance? Walking down makeshift stairs? Rising out of the stage? Swooping down on ziplines? Is it gonna be like, pitch black, and then smoke, and then spotlight, and "step by step"- pause. Blackness. Scream. "Oooooh, baby." Screams. A flash black and white photo on a big screen. More screams. Estrogen flying around in swarms of lust. "Gonna get to you ya gir-ir-ir-ir-irl" SCREAM because that would KICK ASS. Thank god I have armrests.
I wish I had beer. Beer would make this way cooler. I cannot believe I am here right now. I can't wait to have ironic conversations about this. Everyone is going to be sooooo jealous, haha. Free ticket to NKOTB? Fuck yeah, bitches. And I never even owned an album. Suckahs.
God, fucking lame. Where the fuck are they? Where's Donnie? Will he be wearing a gratuitous rattail, because that might make me love him...Where are they-oh. Oh. Oh. Oh-oh-oh. Oh my god. Oh my god. Ohmygod. OMIGOD OMIGOD OMIGOD -- "I LOVE YOU DONNIE!" When you wake up in the morning, do you see my face, boy? (Because I would be okay with that.)
I turn to look at Emi "Are you fucking kidding me? I did not realize I was going to be this excited."
"I know, me too! Ahhhhh! JOOORRRDAAAN!"
Pah. A Jordan fan. What does she know.
And then we each grabbed the other's arms, jumped, and screamed. The uncontrollable giggling began, and that begat the uncontrollable laughter, which begat the uncontrollable tears, which begat the sinking embarassment, and I could not stop laughing. And it's all, I LOVE YOU DONNIE, even with your sparkly pants. I thought I was cooler than this, but nope, nope...I'm a hopeless, giggly girl just like all the others.
So there's singing, and lame dancing, and winking, and they're all nearly forty and it's just ridiculous that they're up there singing, "Don't you know you're my kind, you're just what I like. Girl, you're everything, don't you know you're alright" and there's recently divorced Donnie Fucking Wahlberg, former Lt. Lipton, standing there, wearing a fucking bedazzled Wu Tang t-shirt, slinging a guitar across his back after ripping the two short, sweet chords before Cover Girl.
That wasn't even a sentence, but there's no time for harping on shit like that right now.
"Is Donnie seriously wearing a glittery Wu Tang shirt?"
"No. There's no way."
Emi strains her neck for a closer look. "I think--I think it is. Are you fucking kidding me?"
"Oh my god, he just got so much hotter." My hands form a megaphone. "WU TANG CLAN AIN'T NOTHIN' TO FUCK WITH."
Stupid bitches in front of me are glaring back at me, scoffing, and I'm thinking, "hey, you, get off my cloud, you don't know me and you don't know my style." (In fact I snap back like a rub-ber BAND.)
So yeah. Here's the list on how they're shaping up:
1. Joey McIntyre is definitely crazy. Like, Brook Shields, Barry Gibb crazy.
2. Jon bent himself in half and shook his ass at the camera, because apparently he's shy.
3. Danny looks like Ben Stiller's ugly brother, but he can break dance.
4. Jordan is this annoying hybrid of high-voiced bastard and chiseled-ab Cupid-Man that belongs on the cover of a steamy, spine-creased novel. I mean, if I were to write one, I'd call it, Jordan Knight in Shining Armor, Or Billowy Silk Shirts That Tactically Rip Open With the Slightest Man-Powered Breeze. He sang "Give It To You" and I thought Emi was going to give up dating chicks, jump the balcony and stomp across the heads of the fans on the floor just to fuck him right there on the stage.
5. Donnie Wahlberg is a total douchebag. But a hot one, with a hot brother, and they can come over any time. I think I'll invite them over for Thanksgiving dinner.
Is it odd how I am way more into NKOTB right now than I ever was before? And not just ironically?
Even though I heard, "Chi-CAAAAAAGOOOOOO. Make some NOOO--YOOOOYYZE" over and over again, is it bad that I lamely responded in kind by yelling my fucking head off, because I'm susceptible to peer pressure? I mean, seriously, Donnie? Did you just ask me to wave my hands in the air? And wave 'em like I just don't care? (Cuz Fred and Mowava and the Mousketeers say we're gonna rock right here?)
Are you really that retarded?
(I love you.)
Are they really doing this? Oh my god, they're serious. They are taking this shit seriously.
New Kids on the Block ain't nothin' to fuck with.
But, you know, Donnie? He can put on a show. And not gonna lie, I'm probably going to be watching Band of Brothers sometime soon, since I haven't seen it in seven years, and then I can get my dose of Donnie.
I've never laughed so hard in my life. So thank you, New Kids, for reuniting. Thank you, Emi, for the free ticket. And finally, thank you, God, for keeping Donnie Wahlberg hot.