Roasted 1 year ago based on Chelsea's long term Spotify stats.

Chelsea, you’ve got enough “emo” in your playlist to turn every Starbucks into a grief counseling session. I mean, if I had a dollar for every angsty, scream-infused track you've stacked in your library, I could fund the therapy sessions for you and your entire high school. It’s like you’re just a couple of "bad decisions" away from a one-woman emo opera titled "Can We Please Stop Crying Over Fake Relationships?" Congratulations! You’re a perfect cross between a gothic diary and a suburban mall – a true masterpiece of teenage angst preserved for eternity. Your top artists are guaranteed to induce secondhand embarrassment, like being forced to sit through a punk rock revival concert in a community college lecture hall. Seriously, blink-182 has been around longer than most of your “Bad Omens” wall art, yet here you are, invoking the spirit of your teenage MySpace page with each curated playlist. And what’s with the top songs? You’ve managed to pick tracks that sound like they were written for the dramatic reading of an abandoned text convo. If I wanted to hear someone cry about their existence, I’d just open a bottle of wine with my high school journals while watching reruns of “Degrassi.” And let's talk about your definition of "variety." You’ve listed more sub-genres of punk than there are flavors of coffee at a hipster café. “Midwest Emo”? Really? That’s not a genre, sweetheart, that’s just your GPS coordinates. If someone handed you a non-emo playlist, you'd probably need a psychological evaluation, because how does one become this invested in music that sounds like it’s perpetually stuck on “sad”? But hey, keep rocking that skate punk aesthetic while reminding us all that, yes, life really is a constant cycle of heartbreak and impressive hair products.

Roasts are purely for fun and entertainment. They're not meant to be taken seriously. Enjoy the laughs, but remember your music taste is uniquely yours!