There Aren’t Enough Asian Boy Bands in My Life

You’re going to watch this video and you’re going to like it. I swear, it has it all. It’s got pop stars, killer synchronized dance moves, and a metal band, all rolled into one performance. Watch. Just…watch.

Okay, full disclosure. There’s about 1/8th of my brain that thinks Asian boy bands are completely hot, and then there’s the rest of my brain that is kind of watching out for the cops to bust through my door for watching kiddie porn on my computer. I really would love to see some kind of disclaimer roll across the screen that says it’s okay to watch these guys because they’re all over eighteen.

But it’s okay, because I only watch for the cool tunes and the kickin’ dance moves. (said no one, ever)

Okay, once I get over being really sad that I don’t know what they’re saying, and then once I get over the fact that I’m not sure which bands I’m actually looking at since all of these boy bands look like they were cut out with cookie cutters and popped out of an Easy Bake oven…wait, where was I going with that? Sorry, I got distracted by the glitter on someone’s shirt. I really wish it had been a girl.

The best part of this whole post is that I’ve been watching boy band clips for six hours straight and now they’ve stopped running together. Not only can I now pick out certain key players (whose names are all Jared in my head), but I’ve also figured out the magic ingredients in making your own really popular, really sexy boy band:

1) Five to seven members, depending on your budget.

2) One of them has to be a really tough-looking thug, and one of them has to be so far in the closet he can see Narnia. The remaining members just need to fall somewhere on the spectrum between those two extremes.

3) Completely inexplicable costumes, like this one song where the band members were all wearing boxing gloves and parachute pants. I have never in my life wished I spoke Korean more than at that moment, because I really need to know what that song was about.

4) A metric crap-ton of eyeliner.

5) One member who can rap. At various times. He must be able to turn it on and off like a freakin’ faucet.

6) The singers have to alternate between being the reincarnation of the Backstreet Boys with their choreographed moves, and switching to being the Jackson 5.

7) Hordes of screaming fans in the upper rows of the amphitheater, coupled with totally androgynous famous fans in the front row, all staring up at the stage like they can’t really believe what they’re seeing.

There you have it. It’s magic, I tell ya. And it’s out of sheer jealousy that I make total fun of these guys, since the chances of me getting to grab onto any one of them anytime soon and lick them are not awesome. Which is actually a good thing, since I’m allergic to both eyeliner and unexplained boxing gloves.

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