Know what grinds my gears? When songs tell me what to do. I’m like, GFY, I’ll do what I want, asshole. Lately, I’ve been forced by my local radio station to endure 21 Pilots song, Heathens. Oh I’m sorry, “TWENTY ØNE PILØTS” *cough*.
All my friends are heathens, take it slow
Wait for them to ask you who you know
Please don’t make any sudden moves
This song unnerves me. Not that it’s necessarily a bad song, but I don’t appreciate being told what to do. First of all, I’m expected to believe the two guys pictured above have shit loads of friends “on the inside”? Insert laughy face emoji here. Not only that, they have the nerve to tell me how to behave around said “friends.” Yeah, I don’t think so, Tim.
Listen guys, if I want to meet your friends, I’m going to be myself. If I feel like flailing my arms, do some jumping jacks, climb walls, do a back flip, Imma do it. Except maybe the backflip part, that sounds painful. But also, I may even toss in some rapid-fire questions as well. They can answer, or not, I don’t really care. I’m only asking the rapid-fire questions, because you told me not do that.