98 Degrees is reuniting for a summer tour. One Direction will perform at Gexa Energy Pavilion in late June. Eric Griffey (Rivercrest Yacht Club) and singer-songwriter Carey Wolff (ex-Woodeye, The Grackles) are writing the script to their debut full-length feature, Escape from Night and Day Backyard Posse Boy Island.
Snff, snff. Smell that? That’s the soothing menthol of a million dollars’ worth of acne cream massaging your mental nostrils, and we Weekleteers, who normally don’t jump on trends until they’re half-way up our asses, have decided that, hell, instead of collapsing under the latest fad, why not get in on the ground floor?
Below are the criteria for our new as-yet-unnamed boy band. (Names that have been bandied about the office include Monkeyspank, The Promodores, The US Weekly Singers, Stridex, and Bedwetter.)
Wanted: Outstanding, young, virginal all-American males under the age of 16 who’ve always dreamed of being talentlessly famous to be part of the next great singing/dancing/acting/posing boy band since 1D, BTR, and Fingerbang.
Skillz: Dancing, posing, some singing, and more dancing. Proficiency in the rumba, tango, and samba recommended (for when the boy sprouts facial hair and consequently becomes invisible and/or ew-gross to female tweens, is unceremoniously booted from the group via text message, blows what little money he’s left by our humble little multinational conglomerate of a record label on huffing paint and phone-sex/crying sessions, and, now semi-sober, becomes a candidate for the career-killing indignity that is Dancing with the Stars).
The boy also must be able to warble about love, sex, and other icky grown-up stuff of which he has no experience other than filially.
Types: We want to be as well-rounded as possible, so to that end, we’d like to achieve a somewhat generic mix of types or what we like to call “versions.”
Version 1.) The Captain: If singing and dancing were football, this kid would be the captain of the team, All-Conference quarterback, and the first player stand up to other players when they want to pour maple syrup and Corn Flakes down some freshman’s pants and make him run a mile around the track. Again. The Captain is the go-getter whom most neighborhood fathers quickly dismiss as “that creepy theater kid” until he becomes famous and begins earning three times what those old loser farts make. Then he’s known dreamily to them as their “future ex-son-in-law.”
V2.) The Bad Boy: Proficiency in Rock Band (specifically Legends of Rock and Warriors of Rock) preferred for him to be able to pretend to actually play rockin’ electric guitar in videos for rockin’ songs, ones that –– unlike our competitions’ –– won’t make Avril Lavigne look like Ted Nugent.
V3.) The Preppy: He’s the guy who looks like a girl but gets all the girls because Daddy is outrageously loaded.
V4.) The Tenderoni: Looks like the Bad Boy but must appear to be as emotionally vulnerable as Avril watching Hellraiser III: Hell on Earth.
V5.) The Wallpaper: His job isn’t much, but it’s vital: to make the first “safe” prime number. Our market research over the years indicates that four is just too Beatles-y and six too N.W.A.-y. Five, we’ve discovered, is a solid, dependable number, the type of number to which you can confide your darkest secrets or sweet-talk into beating up another number or driving you to and from number school.
Looks: Must be fresh-faced and preferably pimple-free, though our estheticians are some of the best in the biz! (Thanks to us, everyone thinks J.Lo is a woman, not an ill-tempered, condescending, talentless she-demon.) Hair must be wind-swept, preferably light in hue, and must remind tween females of their favorite yearbook quotes, pillows, or late-night hand-French-kissing sessions.
UPDATE: OK, our lawyers have just informed us that at least one boy whom local police would describe in a report as a “dirty little gardener/terrorist” must be included. But his name had better be Josh, Jordan, or Jeremy.