I remember running through dark halls, trying to get away from it all. Bats shrieked and witches cackled. Terrifying children called to each other with the sounds of their people, their voices reaching impossible distances. Lava bubbled at every corner; I couldn’t escape all the references. Garbled, nasal sounds coursed through the atmosphere. Echoes of “and then I THREW IT ON THE GROUND” flew around me, and tangled me in their grip. Lighting struck and Satan laughed. Boys made Dick-in-a-Box joke after Dick-in-a-Box joke until it became unbearable. Even teachers chorused in three-part-harmony, singing about sex and cocaine to punish us all.
This hellscape was middle school, and The Lonely Island was at its peak popularity.
Ah, The Lonely Island: Andy Samberg, Akiva Schaffer, and Jorma Taccone’s viral musical comedy group. The Lonely Island provided endless entertainment for every pre-pubescent boy I knew, and I fell victim to their obsessions. I was inundated with hours of quotable lines, days of terrible impressions, and eons of rewatching Youtube Videos. This overexposure shook me to my core, and by mid-7th grade, I could no longer stand to see this face:
“Kill it with fire”, little me screamed.
I was deeply unattracted to all three members of The Lonely Island, but Samberg most of all. As the front-member of the group, his was the voice that echoed through the halls of the place I once thought sacred, Culver City Middle School. He was utterly disgusting to me, much like a slug or the dishes that I have to do. 7th Grade Sofia had taste! I was proud of my nauseated reactions to the man! The gross man with the gross face and the gross songs and the gross hair! Oh God, the hair!
7 years later, and I have changed. For better or for worse, I may never know, but I do know one thing:
I want to fuck Andy Samberg.
Bang, even. Doink, if you will. Make love to; fornicate vigorously; hit a home run; go at it like rabbits; jiggle like Jell-O, and know in the Biblical sense. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Once I was glorious; a stern 13-year-old girl with no patience for anything not of the highest brow. I had class, and taste. Now, I want to bone Andy Samberg.
Why? What caused my Sambergian sexual awakening? What could it be? His marriage to Joanna Newsom–the harpist who sings of fruit and birds–shows us that he is husband material, for sure. That could be it. His character of Jake Peralta on Brooklyn-99 shows a sweeter side to him than any Lonely Island video does, which in my opinion makes him way more appealing as a romantic conquest. Yum yum.
Is it just the haircut?
“Mmm…beards”, current me whispered.
Yup, the hair is probably it. Oh yeah, it’s definitely it.
But even with a reason for my deep attraction, the shame I feel is strong; I feel as though I have betrayed my younger self. I admit I even find The Lonely Island a little amusing these days. Many apologies, young child Sofia, for the sins I have committed.
On that note, Andy, if you’re reading this…hit me up.
Yeah, so any head’s up from Andy? Asking for a friend.