"Bless me Father for I have sinned..."
I have a confession to make. It's something I'm not particularly proud of and those who know of this nasty little habit of mine have cried out in horror and called, "Blasphemy!" (Thanks ever so, Ava. LOL) On the other hand, I know I'm not alone and that thought, while comforting in some respects, only serves to contribute to my delinquency. What could be so horrible, you ask? *cringe* Well here goes....this is me, the MANIA Maven, lover of all things BSB, certified card carrying member of the Howie Hootchie Harem...stepping out of the N Sync closet. I'm comin' out, and it ain't pretty!
I'll give you a moment to recover from the shock....
Better now? ..... Good, I thought so.
You're probably wondering what brought on this sudden need to join in the N Sync madness...in fact, I'm wondering the very same thing. It could be that the Boys haven't released an album of late and I'm craving some of their oh-so-perfect harmonies and rich "riddle me with shivers" lyrics. But then... N Sync really knows how to get my heart pumpin' with those rowdy jams on their latest, No Strings Attached. Add to that the undeniable fact that those Syncers put on one hell of a live show, and I think perhaps we've traced the beginnings of my sudden affinity for what I formerly considered "just another copy cat boyband".
But that doesn't explain my growing lust for Justin and JC, two crooners whose indiosyncrasies (no pun intended) are capable of driving me up the wall, forcing me from 0 to raving total lunatic in 2.5 seconds flat. And why, in the name of all things Backstreet, that damn HBO special converted me from a skeptic to something of a *gasp* fan. It must have been those low ridin' wranglers Justin was wearing and that naughty little tongue licking JC bestowed upon the floor. I know I'm not alone when I say that I miss the days of rapid fire pelvic thrusts courtesy of Howie and AJ....have I finally found another source of sexual sizzlin' in the form of "those other five" (who, it should be noted, STILL grace us with THEIR suggestive dance moves)? I really am ashamed of myself; I'm not the flaky type. And while my heart still flutters erratically for the likes of Howie, AJ, and (yes, even) Nick, I know something must be brewin' because my desktop hasn't sported a BSB pic in the past month. Or two.
N Sync has become the ultimate guilty pleasure for me: I run to the TV to watch (and tape) their appearances when possible, I drool over my bootleg copy of the HBO concert special, and I must admit that new pics of Justin and friends are near orgasmic these days. Even the Kevin and Brian action figures from Burger King don't help...of course, that could be because I have YET to get a hold of a Howie, AJ, or Nick but we won't discuss that. (*sniffle* Sore subject.)
Accompanying their appeal as a guilty pleasure, is my latest web addiction: N Sync fan fiction. I know, I know, I've listed FictionLyn's work as Four Star Quality but this is taking it to a whole new level. I've devoted more time that I'd like to admit to surfing the net in search of mature, well written, engrossing reads featuring a whole NEW cast of characters. Could be, the standard issue portrayal of the Boys has finally gotten old. Could be, I'm loving having five whole new personalities mapped out for me. Could be, I'm just a lover of any well written story, and N Sync fics happen to be the ones at the forefront of my attention at the moment. Each of these possibilities is equally plausible for my foray into the "dark side"...but more than likely, it's a combination of all things, both in and out of my control, that have made me a "hanger on" of the fence line between BSB and N Sync.
Both groups intrigue me creatively, and I enjoy both musically. Both provide MORE than sufficient eye candy, and both possess scads of talent. Moreover, while I had formerly set BSB off on their own in the world of vocal harmony groups, I've come to realize and appreciate even the smallest diversity between bands - that goes for ALL boy groups currently topping the charts.
It's a relief to sit back and soak in new group personas as well. Chris, the stereotypical-not-so-typical funnyman, never fails to have me in stitches. Joey, the relentless flirt my ma would just LOVE to see me bring home (seriously), is always good for a laugh, especially with his ladies man antics and outrageous sense of style (the boy needs help). Justin, the undisputed Adonis of N Sync, has claimed my attention and devotion through his flirty on stage mannerisms and all that ghetto talk that comes flying uncensored from his mouth (a surprisingly endearing trait). JC, the closet nymphomaniac of the bunch, is sure to make me swoon (no, seriously) with his hyper-drive dancing and hotter 'n hell body (his eyes aren't bad either). And finally, Lance, the sweet backwater Mississippi boy that everyone seems to underestimate. I ask you: what's not to love? Can you really blame me for being unable to clearly deliniate between "good" and "evil" or "BSB" and "N Sync"?
I think not.
Then there's the small matter of nasty little thoughts becoming nastier. I dare anyone to challange the following statement: N Sync slash fiction, is THE best slash out there. For real. I'm not generally one to favor slash authors, but the N Sync slash work I've run across thus far (quite by accident, I might add) is absolutely AMAZING. It takes a lot to impress me as far as fiction is concerned (not just in the slash field, either) and let me tell you, some of these authors and the stories they weave challange even the very BEST Backstreet stories I've read to date, sexual pairing be damned.
In the end, I guess all that matters, is that my fiction fetish is fed (at least three times a day, maybe more), that the entertainment remains superb (no matter WHO'S doing the entertaining), and that the music maintains it's quality, and embodies emotion like no other media (even if that emotion happens to be as bawdy as the sexual frustration seen in "Digital Getdown").
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to find some professional help. I'm sure there's a support group out there somewhere, capable of meeting my needs. Until then, I shall strive to stop singing "It's Gonna Be Me" in the shower.
Wishing YOU pelvic thrusts and low ridin' wranglers aplenty,
~Jessi
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