Bieber and I are Practically Twins

I just made $100,000 so go ahead and congratulate me. I would share some of it with you, but I don’t want to, so greedy it is then.

After reading that a 33-year-old singer/songwriter/idiot spent $100,000 on plastic surgery to make himself look like his idol Justin Bieber, I decided this was a goal I wanted to achieve too.

After all, Bieber and I were born in the same hospital and grew up in the same town in Canada. He even attended a high school I taught at briefly, though I was long gone by the time he enrolled. In fact, I’ve never met the young star.

So, just like the guy who spent a hundred grand to look like his musical icon, I was ready to bust out my wallet. But I took a picture of Bieber, held it up to the mirror and took a close look at his head and mine.

He has two ears, so do I. Check. He has a nose. I have one too. Two eyes, a mouth, check and check. Chin, cheeks, eyebrows, forehead. So far, the similarities are striking. He has more hair on his head than I do but he always wears a baseball cap and so do I, though being older, I wear mine right side around.

So, as far as I am concerned, we’re pretty much a match. Except maybe for that 44-year age difference thing, but as far as I’m concerned, we’re close enough.

Therefore, I have come to the decision that my $100,000 is staying in my interest bearing account where it is earning me a handsome .00025 per cent.

Turns out money can buy you happiness as I am happy I am not the singer/songwriter/idiot described above who blew a fortune on his folly.

Besides, my look-alike hero is actor George Clooney. I have no idea where he was born and raised but at least he’s got grey hair on his face and head so I’m already half the way there.

©2013 Jim Hagarty

Author: Jim Hagarty

I am a 72-year-old retired journalist, busy recovering from a lifelong career as an unretired journalist. This year marks a half century of my scratching out little fables about life. My interests include genealogy, humour and music. I live in a little blue shack in Canada and spend most of my time trying to stay out of trouble. I am not that good at it. I also spent years teaching journalism. Poor state of journalism today: My fault. I have a family I don't deserve, a dog that adores me, and two cars the junk yard refuses to accept. My prized possessions include my old guitar and a razor my Dad gave me when I was 14 and which I still use when I bother to shave. Oh, and my great-great-grandfather's blackthorn stick he brought from Ireland in the 1850s. I have only one opinion but it is a good one: People take too many showers.