Yo Ke$ha, Lemme Borrow That Glitter Gun.

I'm sure many readers will be confused as to how I can go from pondering Google's search algorithm to contemplating Ke$ha's awesomeness, but I don't care. I admire Ke$ha purely for the fact she gets compensated to roll around in glitter and sparkly bits. I boast of being sequin savvy, but truth be told my passion lies with all things that shimmer. In short, Ke$ha's gig is my dream career minus all the media buzz surrounding her allegedly nude photos and tendency to shower infrequently. Despite being crowned as number one on the Billboard Top 100 for the longest period of time for a female artist since 1977, Ke$ha has received her share of flak for her "garage-chic" threads and less than squeaky clean image. Whatever the haters may spew about the girl, I for one appreciate ke$ha's fun-spirited, rocker, occasionally walk of shame-esque duds. And let's be honest, at the end of the day, the girl can write a hell of a catchy song. Ke$ha is a hit-maker. Call her what you may, this chick has proved she is here to stay in some form; whether it be as a producer, song-writer, or singer. In a recent Vanity Fair article on the glitter gal, the usually forthcoming Eric Spitznagel summed it up for us:

You can dismiss it as juvenile trash, and as someone who didn’t have any reason or desire to listen to Ke$ha’s music prior to this interview, I might have agreed with you. But in hindsight, I’m sorry, but you’re wrong. If it’s any consolation, I was wrong too. If her beautifully clumsy poetry doesn’t make you smile even a little bit, you’re taking life way too seriously.

So, here my 5 reasons (exluding her addictive tunes) ke$ha is the bomb no matter what the f*** her haters say:

1. She promotes safe sex. 

Ke$ha recently started distributing condoms donning her face at her shows. Franky, I think this is fantastic.

2. There is absolutely no Ke$ha song that doesn't make you want to dance. 

I. love. dancing. Let's just stand in a circle around our shoes and our pocketbooks. And lets just dance. And if guys come near us we'll tazer them.

3. Lyrical genius

Anyone who can fit the followings lyrics into a song that you can happily sing along with pretty much rocks my world:

"But you cry about this / and whine about that / when you grow a pair / you can call me back / And no, I don't want to see your mangina"  or  "I think you're hot / I think you're cool / you're the kind of boy I'd chase in school / but now that I'm famous / you're up my anus / now I'm going to eat you fool" or "your little heart goes pitter patter / i want your liver on a platter." 

 4.  Ke$ha Spends More on Glitter Every Month Than Most People Spend on Rent

Holy crap! I would piss my pants if I had the opportunity to get my hands on amount of sparkly bits each month.  I often fantasize about making enough money to shoot glitter at people out of a glitter gun. Everyday. For the rest of my life. I normally dream up Halloween costumes that allow me to toss glitter at people. Think Tinkerbell. Unicorns. Mystical beings. 

This is truly #winning.

5. She refuses to apologize.

You know you're doing something right when other peoples' worlds revolve around trashing your success. No reason to apologize for other peoples' hate issues.

So let the ke$ha bashing begin. Why should I loathe ke$ha like the rest of the planet? Only Valid reasons accepted.

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Construction

Dear Construction,

I like roads. I use them everyday. I can’t imagine having to plow my own path from Detroit to Lansing or even from my apartment down the street to the liquor store. I detest dirt roads because they fling bullet like rocks up in all directions. I don’t appreciate having my journey down a road look like something out of Starwars, dodging space debris and alien war ships.

I don’t enjoy off-roading mostly because my car is a few steps above a smart car. I don’t like bumpy or poorly paved roads. I have no enthusiasm for feeling like I am on a roller-coaster on my commute to work and I don’t get a thrill out of going in and out of large trenches. I don’t think my trek to work should resemble a trip to Universal Studies. In fact, I actually have a mild heart attack on the occasions I inadvertently stumble over pot holes in fear that my Jetta will plumet into the dark abyss of said hole and never return.

With that being said, dearest construction workers, I thoroughly applaud your efforts to construct roads for me that are crater free. I wish, however, that you could do this in a more efficient manner. One too many times do I find myself on a road filled with large orange construction cones of doom without the slightest appearance that anyone has made the attempt to construct anything. Not only do I resent you for putting these cones in my way, but I resent you because you are giving me false hope that I will soon have a beautiful, smooth road in which to take long sunday drives down free of pits and ditches.

Instead of a fresh new pavement, I am greeted by queues of cars who appear as though they’re camping out for the next Twilight flick. There’s something about cones that sends people off the deep end.

“WHAT ARE THESE? DEVIL CONES?” They wonder now in a frenzy of fear.

Watching people deal with construction can either be wildly amusing or just downright obnoxious depending on your state of mind. People either cautiously maneuver around them like they’re tip toeing through a minefield or they race through them like they’re doding meteorites. I often feel like I’m being screwed over by Warrio and his godamned bombs or Princess peach and her hoards of Bananas as I try to react to the people trotting along like turtles or whizzing in and out of the cones like professional nascar drivers. I’m not suggesting I have a better way to approach construction cones. Damned if I know what the proper way to deal with construction is, but I’m pretty sure if should not be a matter of natural security.

All I am asking, Construction folk, is that if you are going to put up cones to hinder my ability to make it home within a reasonable period of time and send everyone into a state of hysteria, I politely request that you are actually constructing something. A road would be ideal, but I’d take a curb or a nice plot of grass.

Please & Thanks,

M.

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