I like Charlie Puth. He’s a more palatable version of the Bieber kind. He’s cute, writes good, catchy hooks and sings like an angel. I could, however, do without the perennially wet lips, the poufy hair and the hopelessly derivative music videos. Like this.
Which is a knock off, designer imposter perfume, basic bitch version of this.
To be fair, it’s virtually impossible to outshine a tap dancing Christopher Walken. If you’re going to let go and get spastic all by your lonesome, you’re going to have to let it all out without an ounce of inhibition or a hint of self-awareness. Like Lorde, in pretty much all of her videos.
Saving for Botox 