dear panic! at the disco,

when i first heard of you sometime last year, i actually liked i write sins... because it sounded like something off of a disney movie soundtrack, and i am really into disney. i saw the video and kind of liked you a little more because, even though brendon (whom i referred to as "that top hat guy with the dsls" internally btw) looked like an idiot and there was entirely too much spencer shots, the guy who played the groom was hot and i am easy to please. i then immediately forgot about you, which, thinking back, is where our story together should have ended. instead, sometime this summer, i got linked to the now defunct scenequeenmedia on livejournal, and was in equal parts fascinated and horrified by the way these girls had been glorified merely for fucking (or not fucking, in jac's case) these two dudes. i discovered that in the time since iwsnt had come out, you'd released a few more singles and traded in a vaguely awkward bassist for a much cuter one. this was right smack in the middle of your transformation from a band to Performers! at the Cabaret. ryan, since last time i had seen him, had thrown out the fingerless gloves and gotten white satin ones instead. he'd started painting shit on his face and gotten a weird mullet. rosevests were involved. it was kind of riduclous but also made sense, in a way. from top hats to rosevests, the transformation was logical. you were new and improved, p!atd! the music was still questionable but the look was fierce. as a shamelessly shallow person, i took a stand and said, "I Like Panic! at the Disco!"

then sometime this fall, you stopped shaving. you guys all renounced bangs. you started wearing little lace-up capris, spencer. i just don't get it. where is that scene dior homme loving band i used to love despite myself? it's gone, along with the mac cosmetix of yore (except for spencer's retarded goatee and brendon's doll shit what the fuck is that.) now, there's just a quartet of strangely feminine mountain men, foreheads bare and free. are you growing beards because you feel your face is too naked, due to your lack of bangs?

now, i know that bands have to grow, as performers and as musicians, that you can't keep doing the same stuff over and over. bowie didn't, mercury didn't, and although i loathe to compare you, you are clearly modeling yourself them. but listen, did bowie grow a freakish beard? no, he went to berlin and where his daily caloric intake was roughly based on how much vodka and coke he'd consumed that day. he went insane, made a fucking genius album and then came back as the thin white duke! now, i'm not suggesting that you guys pick up an eating disorder or a coke habit (although i think i'm too late where brendon is concerned.) all i'm saying is, beards don't have to be part of your new image. but then-- anybody who's read backstage passes by angela bowie knows the epic proportions of bowie's "lance of love," so perhaps he never felt the need to exert his manhood. perhaps that's what's causing this.

in any case, i have a solution for you, panic! at the disco. skinny jeans, leopard print, gold eyeshadow. i have a vision and it looks a lot like the manic street preacher's 1992 tour. get ryan a dress. i've heard that mens' heels are in for this fall, might i suggest that also? the whole mime/circus thing is getting old, panic! darlings.

also, please get bangs. i'm looking at you, ryan "forehead" ross.

love,
cloe