For V Magazine’s annual vagina issue, they talked to a singing unicorn labia about how he wants to be the greatest that ever lived and how he’s ready chisel his nose away in order to become the new Michael Jackson nobody was asking for. When Justin Bieber’s starts talking in an interview, we all put on a bib, because the foolery will be splashing everywhere. So bibs out and put your detectivelatoyaside.gif on standby.
JB on how he wants bust through the Lief Garrett curse and hand out the Jesus Juice by the time he’s 30:
Right now? I mean, I consider Michael Jackson the best. If I could be at his level… But I’ve got a lot of work to do. I’m not saying it’s going to happen within the next three years. But hopefully by the time I’m 30, people will remember me. I think people will remember me at this point, but I don’t want people to just think of me as a teen sensation. Because I could probably just sell out, and then in two years not put out another album, and just become Justin Bieber the teen superstar. But I don’t want to be that. I want to transition, and become the greatest.
JB on how he’s going to keep his lyrics G-rated, because Michael Jackson never sang about dirty shit (which he did):
I want to be able to do what Michael did—he always sang clean lyrics—and it was always that little kids loved Michael and grandparents loved Michael. I don’t want to start singing about things like sex, drugs, and swearing. I’m into love, and maybe I’ll get more into making love when I’m older. But I want to be someone who is respected by everybody.
JB on how some whores are hating on him because he’s beeeeeeaaaaauuuuutiful:
I know a lot of people say they hate Justin Bieber who haven’t even listened to any of my music. They just hate me because they hate the idea of me. I’m young, I’m handsome—I don’t mean to sound conceited—but they think that I just got here because [of that], because I’m good-looking and girls like me, but the music isn’t there.
JB on how he’s got the face of Jesus on his leg, but he’s not religious:
I don’t think I’m religious. I am spiritual. I believe that Jesus died on the cross for my sins. I believe that he put me in this position, and that I have to always give him the glory he deserves for putting me here. But I don’t consider myself religious. A lot of people who are religious, I feel like they get lost. They go to church just to go to church. I am not trying to disrespect them at all, you know, whatever works for you; but for me, I focus more on praying and talking to Him. I don’t have to go to church. I haven’t been to church in a long time, but I know I have a relationship with Him. People can be like, “If you don’t go to church, what do you mean, how are you a Christian?” But I am. I talk to Him, and that’s all.
JB on how he once asked a Magic 8-Ball if he’s going to be the new Jesus and it said “Maybe. Okay, yeah, yeah, just get your tiny hands off of me already!“:
You know, my ma has always had God around me, has always made it really apparent. She never pushed it on me, but she always brought me to church and she put me in Sunday school. When I was little, I did these things: “prophetic words,” which is sort of like fortune-telling, but from God. They said in one of those tapes—when I was really young—that I was going to be the voice of the new generation. So, I don’t know what that means. It could just mean that I’m here to make music and inspire people. That’s all I know.
JB on how he’s basically the stubborn cockroach of pop star fetuses:
I am setting them not only for me but for other people too. I want people to know that this is not just a fluke. It’s not a fluke that I’m here. I’m here for a reason, and I’m here for a lifetime. And no one is going to get rid of me.
I’m going to give Justin Bieber a temporary pass this time, because if he read all of these self-motivational words off of a piece of lined paper in front of his 5th grade class (which is where he should’ve said this shit), then we all would’ve slapped a gold star on his forehead and patted him on the back for reaching for the stars. Besides, I need to save my keystrokes for writing V Magazine a complaint letter. Those bitches knew where they were doing when they put Justin’s face between a V.