The Youtubes makes people famous--there's no way around that, it is one of the few truths in this world, so deal with it the same way that you deal with the fact that there will always be racist assholes waving Confederate flags, laughing at Larry the Cable Guy, and preaching religion and family values as they secretly give non-gay handjobs to random men in the bathroom of the gas station by the highway and their teenage daughters give birth because they were told condoms were wrong.
On Youtubes, as everywhere else, all fame is justified for one reason or another, although most would never admit the reason everybody knows who they are is because they are the biggest asshole on the planet, the worst dancer in history, or a complete moron totally unaware of anything beyond the stomping grounds of their youth.
Enter "Babe 27", who no doubt longs for the fate of her idol, Justin "I was discovered on Youtube" Bieber and will no doubt never receive it. Instead of cruising the world in a pimped-out Rascal scooter with cupholders, parting seas of swooning teenagers in towns whose names she can't even pronounce, Babe 27's flavor of fame will not result in any financial reward, respect, or sex appeal.
Instead, millions will laugh at her, share her humiliation with all of their friends, and move on, leaving Babe 27 to wither in their dust, cruel laughter eternally echoing in her ears no matter how many earmuffs she dons, a three-legged cat her only friend.
Enjoy:
"...and THAT is why you don't post videos of yourself singing in your bedroom on Youtube!"
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