Sometimes I have this vision of the Jonas Brothers. I don’t even know what they sing but I know who they are. Sort of. I mean I get the three of them completely confused. Sometimes with Hanson. But so there’s the youngest one, who, after some research to clarify, I now understand is the one who dated Miley Cyrus. His name is Nick. The eldest one is the one who just got married and his super-tacky nuptials were profiled in a recent US Weekly that I read cover-to-cover. I read all US Weeklies cover-to-cover. Even the Fashion Police, which is less funny than The View. (My mom, however, loves the Fashion Police part of US Weekly, and that makes me love my mom.) Anyway the eldest is named Kevin and he lit his wedding reception entirely in blacklights. The middle Jonas brother is the one who dated Taylor Swift. And Camille Belle. And Demi Lovato. And now Ashley Greene who is one of the vampires in the Twilight movies. In that order. His name is Joe and I have a problem with him. Taylor Swift has written at least two songs about him (Forever & Always and Better Than Revenge. Better than Revenge is apparently about Camille Belle stealing him from her.) Then Demi Lovato had to go to rehab for being a cutter-bulimic and I read, although I’m sure this, and everything else I’m writing about, is not true, that she was extremely tortured by photos of him with his new girlfriend Ashley.
Look. I totally get it. I totally get being absolutely insane about someone that you thought you liked and then they pull the rug out from under you and you’re like Now I feel stupid because you weren’t even that good in bed but now I’ve been dumped and everyone knows and is laughing at me and that makes me want to punch someone. First: no one is laughing at you. Have you ever laughed at one of your girlfriends who’s just been dumped? No. (If the answer to that question was yes then please leave and maybe try not to kill any puppies on your way out.) Second: this young man is not even that cute and yet has basically run a train on several underage Hollywood ladies and so it makes me mad that they are all crazy for him. He was wearing a purity ring until like four months ago. I hate any pretense of virginity, in anyone, except virgins, and even then I don’t think it’s something you should be advertising with jewelry. He treats women like my grandfather treated cars: he trades in for a new Oldsmobile every year. Maybe even every six months if he’s feeling flush! Maybe these girls seem more crazy than average because they are so young and are thus responding those first green shoots of jealousy as we all did back in the sunset of our adolescence, with pure unadulterated public rage. I wouldn’t condone concealing one’s feelings, per se, but specifically in terms of jealousy and being jilted I think the best course is always an exterior show of strength no matter how much you may want to set someone’s house on fire, Left-Eye.
Anyway. I have this vision of the Jonas Brothers: of the eldest, Kevin, being this super-Christian naif, cuddling with his wife on the couch watching like fucking Lambchop or Lawrence Welk or Joel Osteen or something, maybe with a can of tuna and curving Texas McMansion staircase in the background, Nick-Lachey-on-Newlyweds-style, and the youngest, Nick, being still super-duper-crazy obsessed with Miley still and having all these Virgin of Guadalupe candles lit under this creepy shrine in his bedroom (first door at the top of the spiral stairs), and maybe some stills of her in the Party of the U.S.A video– I mean the cowboy boots, he just can’t get over the cowboy boots– and maybe even one of Billy Ray’s old puka shell necklaces for good luck or something. And then in the middle of all this, there’s Joe. And he’s just way, way, way more deviant than anyone in America can imagine. In he saunters in after a completely debauched night out in L.A. He plunks down on the couch, tosses his cocaine-dusted car keys on the glass-top coffee table, and begins regaling Kevin and Kevin’s wife with stories of how he traded oral with, like, Mo’Nique in the bathroom and then did speedballs in a Chateau Marmont bungalow with Robin Williams and Lindsay Lohan. And then he had sex with a horse.
I think they should have named AT LEAST one Jonas brother Jonas.