i'd kick my own ass

So over the weekend I attended, what I once would of never foreseen myself attending, a pop concert. This was not just any pop concert thou, this was an ex-boyband, synchronized dancing, tabloid ridden, girl shrilling Justin Timberlake concert. A concert that if I would have proclaimed my attendance to during an average rock concert, probably would have resulted with me being riddled with beer cups, M&Ms, D-cell batteries, spiked wallet chains, and probably someone's sacrificial goat. I'm not going to try to defend my position in going to a JT (that's Mr. JT to you!) concert because in all honesty I not only wanted to go, I looked forward to it. Maybe its old age, commercial brainwashing, or the acceptance that I'm not hard-core now, and I never really was. Now you might ask what I see in this platinum selling pop culture icon and it comes down to 4 things, a good beat, catchy lyrics, a reason to dance, and the way he moves his hips. Wait, scratch that last one, its 3 things I'm just jealous of the 4th. So all-in-all the show was destined to be an all around good time, and it was. He played all the songs I wanted to hear, had an impressive stage presence, knew where he was geographically, and didn't run at the mouth like some other performers of the past. So on a scale of 1-10, I'd give the show an 8+ for what it was, but sorry JT you're no Cedric Bixler, Scott Weiland, or Reverend Maynard.