Parents.

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Hey guysss.

My parents are truly torturing me right now. Last night I told them of how I began purchasing CD's of my favourite bands, so they tell me to show them the CD's.

Blurryface:

Mother: What's this?

Me: Twenty Øne Piløts.

Mother: There's no photo...

Me: Open the lyric booklet...

Mother: Wh- OH MY GOODNESS *dad's name (Jadranko)* WOULD YOU LOOK AT THIS INSANITY!

Dad: ARE THEY WANTED BY THE FBI?!

Me: They're nice people...

American Beauty/American Psycho:

Mother: I prefer The Script.

Me: Don't go down that road, mother...

Dirty Work:

Mother: Who are they?

Me: ...All Time Low...

Mother: OH MY, WHY IS HE NAKED?!

Me: He's Alex Gaskarth... He's hot- I mean, drunk, I meant drunk...

Okay this next one killed me.

5SOS:

Father: ALRIGHT YOU CAN LISTEN TO EVERYTHING EXCEPT THESE PEOPLE. THEY'RE JUST IDIOTS WHO CAN'T PRODUCE MUSIC AND ARE JUST TAKING YOUR MONEY FOR NO REASON. DON'T GET PULLED IN BY THESE '20 SECONDS OF SUMMER'.

Me: F-five Seconds of Summer...

Father: YOU ARE NOT LISTENING TO THIS. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!

Me: . . .

Obama: . . .

Michael: . . .

Ashton: . . .

Calum: . . .

Luke: . . .

Everyone: SHUT UP LUKE.

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