Well, one answer to that would be, "Fine, provided everyone has been dead for a while, or at least is in no way a celebrity in my own brain." Because, see, I have a squick, but it's not an RPF squick so much as a celebrity squick: celebrities ick me out. (Seriously. Best Beloved works in a very celebrity-infested part of our city, and I have to cover my ears and cower when she mentions encountering them at restaurants or city meetings or whatever. My reaction is basically the same as my reaction to zombies, except celebrities walk among us and are thus much ickier. *shudders*) I just - I guess some sadly twisted part of my brain is deeply uncomfortable with the knowledge that celebrities actually exist. I'm happier when I can pretend they're just fictional creations of entertainment media outlets.

No, I don't understand it either. My brain is weird.

But the short answer is: sadly, you will not be pimping me into Fall Out Boy fandom (oh, like I didn't know exactly what you meant) unless you can first fix my brain. Which - I am totally open to brain fixing! Just, I'm not sure it's possible.

*raps knuckles on skull to see if the ferrets who live inside are feeling sane today*

*comes to the conclusion that they are as crazed as ever*

*sighs*