This just in:
Lance Bass comes out.
More stunning revelations:
Pope Benedict XVI: "Confidentially ... I'm Catholic."
Troy Aikman: "Yeah, I threw a couple of footballs around."
Liz Taylor: "Just between you and me, this isn't my first marriage."
You may remember that Bass tried to raise $20 million for a trip to the International Space Station. Funding fell through when investors realized that they were, in fact, paying for a round trip.
Mind you, I care not a fig for his lifestyle choices. Boy Bands, though, are an abomination. I despise the insipid, overprocessed lyrical war crimes they perpetrate upon the public, masquerading as music. They are nothing but a marketing contrivance that converts good, worthwhile plastic and aluminum into soon-to-be-landfill CDs. For such grievous offenses against humanity, vicious taunting is the least that he deserves.
Not that I really wish him any ill. It's fine if he ends up living happily ever after, so long as I don't have to listen to him sing about it.
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