By Johnanthony Alaimo
Columnist
Years from now, you’ll be gathered around the warm glow of whatever electronic Apple released that year, as you tell your grandkids where you were on that fateful day. Maybe you were writing a paper. Maybe you were on the elliptical. Maybe you were like me and former President George W. Bush, choking on a pretzel. Whatever you were doing, you’ll remember and never forget. You’ll know where you were when you found out that Zayn Malik was leaving One Direction.
We’ve been through this pain before. When Ginger left the Spice Girls, we knew the ’90s were over and that we were probably all going to die from Y2K. When Justin Timberlake left N*Sync, we knew that we would never get our fill of frosted tips ever again. Now that Zayn — arguably the Ginger of One Direction — has left, I can only wonder what other plagues God has in store for us.
FEMA has obviously been activated to ensure that everyone gets through this dire emergency. Please, avoid any room that houses a girl between the ages of six and 99 (we cannot be too careful). Have enough canned food, water, tissues and tour CDs for at least four months or until Zayn releases his solo album. We are living in a post-apocalyptic world, and we have to get used to it. From this day forward, the year will be recorded as AD-1D (After the Death of One Direction). Please change your calendars accordingly.
I will leave you all with this. Even when the lights seem the dimmest they’ve ever been and you can’t find it in yourself to put that One Direction-themed electric toothbrush in your mouth because it hurts too much, just know this: At least you were never a fan of The Wanted. Godspeed, everyone.
