And it Breaks my Heart

So, just as my faith in humanity was beginning to be restored, something terrible happened. Let me back this story up.
Earlier today, my friend and I were having this awesome conversation about music. I causally mentioned my 7th grade sister's freakish obsession with One Direction (she's a self-proclaimed Directioner.) We decided to implement a plan to slowly transition her into something less shameful. I had high hopes; I was starting to see my sister in a new light.
Suddenly, something extremely uncalled for happened. She volunteered to read my 7-year-old brother a bedtime story. Respectable, right? WRONG. Wanna know what she was reading? Are you ready? She was reading the freaking autobiographies of the guys in One Direction. Like seriously?
But wait, it doesn't stop there! When she was finished, she decided to list their blood types. So yes, now when my brother goes to school on Monday and his teacher asks him what he learned over the weekend, he's going to tell her that Harry Styles has type B+ blood. That's not even a good type.  Like seriously, at least have the decency to have a blood type with which you can universally donate. Gosh.
His blood would.