There's no particular takeaway to Drew Magary's profile of Justin Bieber in the new issue of GQ other than the fact that he seems to be kind of dull, doesn't want to be punched in the face and likes to draw penises on things, although his failed attempt to do something adult and cool with the Canadian pop sensation makes for a fascinating read:
I ask Bieber if he'd like to venture outside the studio to talk over dinner, but he declines. "It's just a pain in the ass," he says. Bieber exists inside what amounts to a series of interconnected skyways: He goes from his secluded house to his secluded Range Rover to his secluded studio, rarely setting foot in the exposed world. Suggesting that we pop down the block to a restaurant is insane. Stupid, even. I have been assured by Scooter Braun, Bieber's manager, that Bieber is "very normal, very regular," which is nonsense. No one can be normal living under the circumstances that constitute daily life for Justin Bieber.