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The motherfucking Jonas Brothers.
Their hair. My pubes. Same difference.
Because nothing says 'rock n roll' quite like 3 virgins walking on a beach...

Jesus fucking Christ these guys need to die. Forget the electric chair. Screw the noose. Bollocks to the gas chamber. These squeaky little pricks need a bullet in the head, and that’s all there is to it.

I know, I know, every bastard and his boyfriend seems to love the adorable little fuckers. Ever since they spewed their way on to the world stage they’ve been swooned over, tickled and adored like a basket full of extra-soft, ultra-furry little kittens.

Men purr. Women blush. Virginal, hairless teen girls scream like it’s the apocalypse; truly the Jonas Brothers are where the party is at. I don’t care. The dapper little gits could cure cancer for all I care, it’d do nothing to quash this craving I seem to have to beat the little turds to death with a sofa cushion.

There’s just something inescapable about their music... it’s hard to describe... yet somehow whenever I hear that song of theirs ‘Paranoid’ all my manly desires to kill, to hunt and to fuck are all activated at once. A Neanderthal tidal wave of adrenaline splashes my system, my fists clench, my eyes bulge... and suddenly I’m filled with this strange rampaging desire to headbutt something into mush.

Heck, just yesterday I heard that song blasting from a passing car – next thing I know I find myself kicking a tramp to death just to fend off the asphyxiation.

I don’t know what comes over me. I’ve been listening to so-called 'mind altering' music all my life without consequence – the heavier the better. For me there’s nothing like the sound of Scandinavian death-metallers screaming their lungs to gravel and burning down churches to get me feeling chilled, relaxed. Pisschrist, Dying Fetus, Feculent Goretomb – the louder, faster and stupider the better – all leave me calm as Buddha, a smile on my face like a little baby encountering its first fart. I thought I was immune to even the most violent, hate filled forms of music. But I was unprepared it seems for this true onslaught of musical malevolence. Slayer mellow me out, but 3 minutes of Jonas Brothers sends me into a killing frenzy. I’d never eaten a live rabbit, for instance, until the recent Jonas Brothers DVD somehow ended up in my home.

Seriously, I really am worried that if these sugary little bastards aren’t silenced soon then I’ll end up dry-humping a cow to death, turning to Satan, or worse - joining the indoctrinated millions in handing my iTunes money to the Disney Corporation - the evil masterminds behind this demonic plot to enslave the world with their genre-bending, family-friendly new threesome. I’m not the only one – every person I see listening to their music becomes somehow enslaved, entranced; seduced by those poptastic beats and that churlish, boyish innocence.

The fact that their hair looks like my pubes is irrelevant – one slightest hint of their music, one catchy hook and you’re theirs, snared in their spider-web forever. They’re taking over the world one wholesome, well-meaning single at a time – and anyone who doesn’t fit the clean cut, straightedge, teenage mold is swept aside and left a hormonal, twitching, burned out violent wreck like me. If my reaction to their music is anything to go by, we need to rid the world of this menace now before we all are overwhelmed and end up fisting ourselves into extinction.

And that’s not even to mention all that chastity ring bullshit. Or the fact that these greasy little shit stains somehow got the Rolling Stone cover. Or the issue of their new breed of 'rock music' being as hard hitting as 12 rounds with a paraplegic midget. Or that (although at this point in time I cannot prove this) their music drove my pet dog to suicide. Let’s just get it over and done with. What’s the cost of a couple of gallons of napalm and a few SCUD missiles against that of world peace and human intelligence? Precisely.

Such romantic ideas will probably earn me a never-ending shower of shit and hatemail from the armies of venomous teeny bopper fangirls who haunt the internet like hungry, vaginal lice, all of whom seem to have leapt crotch first in to this squeaky clean, bubblegum ‘rock’ movement. Or they would were they even slightly aware of this site. (Had I been able to afford to post the Lady GaGa sex change photos I’m sure they’d be here now in their millions). But I don’t care what these frenzied masses say - it's time to kill in the name of Democracy once again.

This mind-bending musical phenomenon seems to affect people differently. For example, it has long been proven that women are smarter than men (it’s a fact, live with it). Yet while it drove a man like me to nimphomaniacal homicide, the effect it has on our women is much, much worse.
Before.
Before the Jonas Brothers.
After.
After.

In the 10 seconds of ‘research’ I did for this snippet, I typed ‘I hate the Jonas Brothers’ into Google, and somehow found a thread with messages such as these puked all over it:

“The Jonas brothers are amazing!! they rock!!! Each of them has a unique talent and brings their own parts to the band that make it what it is today!! Joe is the hilarious flirt that makes you smile everytime to see him. he makes all the concerts fun and leaves you laughing for hours. Nick is the cute sensitive brother that makes your heart melt with his voice...every time he sings it's like heaven! and we can't forget Kevin...his mad Guitar playing skills and awesome personality makes you feel as though you have known them for years and years!! all of them together make the most amazingly perfect band and group of gorgeous guys in the world!! they rock and I love them!! God did good with these 3 heartthrobs :}” (This message, incidentally, is in its intact and unedited form. And yes, you can rest assured that's the only time the word "heartthrobs" will ever appear on this site.)

I’ve taught school classes of retarded infant children as part of my community service, and nursed dumb animals to health as part of my anger management programme. I’ve negotiated brain-damaged junkies into rehab. I’ve seen a coma victim whose brain was oxygen-deprived for 37 minutes make a full recovery. You name any level, any flavour of stupid and I’ve seen it. Yet in all my life I’ve never encountered such a dense, concentrated dollop of stupidity squashed into such a tiny space as the paragraph above.

I must admit though that even in this retarded sea of failure there are some shriveled raisins of truth. Were it not for the uncontrollable, genocidal, animalistic instincts the Jonas Brothers' music brings out in me, I’m sure their music would leave me “laughing for hours” too. Or vomiting perhaps. And while we’re on the topic I must confess I too am, like, totally mad jealous of Kevin’s like so wow totally hot guitar skills. Indeed, to master 2 or even 3 chords and play them slowly, quietly over a gentle beat must truly take a mastery of the art, the levels of which mere plebeians such as myself could never even hope to understand.

That paragraph alone is proof of what I’m saying – despite their ‘wholesome’ and so-called ‘harmless’ music, the damage being done is monumental – even the strongest female minds are being melted by this drivel. The vice-like, razor-sharp intelligence we have come to expect from the teenage girls of our generation is being melted into paste by this weapon of musical mass destruction. What was once a generation of rocket scientists and Machiavellian Leaders of Tomorrow is being reduced to a giggling, babbling mess.

So that, dear readers, is my intention – to make myself a hero and to rid the world of this omnipresent spectre of evil. These wolves amongst us lambs shall be culled forever. This may be the last time you ever hear from me, humble visitor – as soon as this is done uploading I’m off to buy a shotgun to finish these cuddly, fuzzy-wuzzy little shits for good. Not for me you understand, but for humanity. One day they’ll build statues of me, you’ll see...

... until then, just take solace in the fact that seldom ever has there been a group of individuals so effortlessly deserving of the TwistedEdge Dickhead Award. For their two-beat, radio-friendly assault on humanity, these curly-haired, silver tongued fuckwits deserve it.

I’m serious though.

Let’s kill the bastards.


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