Texas Blood Money Media's Degenerate Manifestos

  Listen. I wasn’t planning to like Benson Boone. Actually, I was ready to rip this kid to shreds—like, “Oh cool, another TikTok‑manufactured softboy with dreamy eyes and a vintage filter addiction.” I was set to call him Hall & Oates Lite™ , maybe throw in a “John Mayer for kids who moisturize” joke, and move on with my day. But then... The bastard sang. And now I’m sitting here, emotionally compromised, trying to understand what the hell just happened. He Looks Like Trouble, But He’s Laughing With You—Not At You Benson Boone’s got that look like he just walked out of an indie film and a bar fight. He’s got swagger, sure, but it’s wrapped in a vibe that says, “I know this is over-the-top, and I don’t give a fuck.” The thing is—he’s funny . He knows he’s dramatic. He knows it’s corny. He’s in on the joke. And instead of running from it, he dives into it, headfirst, shirt unbuttoned, wind machine at full blast. It’s not try-hard—it’s own-your-lane confidence . He’s basically ...