Justin Bieber says he has an allowance, but something tells me it’s not five dollars a week for mowing the lawn and doing dishes.
“I only have a credit card, which allows me to spend a certain amount of money every month,” Bieber says. “If I reach the limit after the first week, I won‘t be able to buy any more stuff until the month is over.”
At an estimated $100 million, I don’t feel sorry for him. Bieber continues:
“It‘s not that money wouldn‘t mean anything at all to me. But the main thing is to do what my passion is. And that‘s music. It‘s nice to get paid for that, though. Performing feels natural to me, just like walking.”
I can only make fun of Justin Bieber so much. This kid’s publicist deserves to be paid more, because everything Justin Bieber says is gold. He says he’s a Christian, but he supports gays. He says it’s not about the money, but admits money still means something to him. It’s impossible to hate this kid!
F-ck. I think I’m getting Bieber fever.
Bieber often has underwear thrown at him onstage. Bieber says his mom doesn’t like it, and that they sometimes “have phone numbers written on them.”
This is disturbing to me because he doesn’t say what kind of underwear it is, but any kind would be completely inappropriate. Underage panties are just wrong. Twenty-year olds tossing their thongs at a 16 year old is wrong. And then we get into boxer-briefs territory…
And I don’t know what expectations these girls have, but I can’t imagine Justin Bieber, 90 years old, telling his grandkids, “Your naw-naw and I met after I randomly picked up a pair of underwear and decided to call the telephone number written on them. And the rest is history.”