Ke$ha, Hey. Hey there. Why don’t you have a seat. Let’s you and me talk. Let’s just us girls rap for a minute, keep it real. No, no, sit down! Make your self comfortable, take off some of that bling. There’s a bucket next to the sofa if you need to throw up.
Ok. So listen, the way you’ve been acting lately is…unacceptable and- No, No! Don’t cut me off! This isn’t a condemnation of your hard partying, it’s about how you are going about it.
Sweetie, you can be the drunk slutty girl at the party if you want to. I love drunk slutty girls, I’ve spent many moons among your tribe believe me. However, you have got to get your head in the game, Baby. You aren’t fourteen anymore. This isn’t your first “growed-up” party that no ones’ parents chaperone. You are an adult now. You’re way past getting wasted on two Mike’s Hard Lemonades on a school night and letting Mikey Hutchinson from Algebra 1 feel your boob in the laundry room. You are 24. By now you shouldn’t be waking up in bath tubs because you know how to roll.
What’s that? Oh, you just wake up and brush your teeth with a bottle of Jack? Because you know that when you leave for the night you ain’t comin’ back?
Hooker, if you know you ain’t comin’ back then you should have the toothbrush in your purse along with the travel bottle of Scope. It’s called foresight. That way if you do wake up in a bathtub or under a bush in a public park, you can get into work in the morning minty fresh. ‘Cuz your manager Duane down at the Best Buy already told you that if you aren’t behind that register at 8 AM sharp, he’s gonna fire your ass. Here’s a helpful list of things you should have on you before you start your bender:
- Afore-mentioned toothbrush
- Afore-mentioned travel bottle of Scope
- Ten dollars hidden in the lining of your bra. (emergency cab money)
- Fresh panties
And don’t give me that shit about not carrying a purse. All of the above items will fit snugly into your trend cowboy boots. You know the ones. The ones you never take off all the way.
The ones you just black out in.
I know having a hit song based off of the tune “There’s a place in France where the ladies wear no pants.” has made you feel invincible. Huffing actual glitter and never bathing has made you fancy yourself an autotuned Janis Joplin but I do want to address the fact that there is a fine line between rockstar casual substance abuse but you are crossing the line into an episode A&E’s Intervention. It’s cool to do cocaine, sure, but when you do so much of it that you can’t remember that if it’s pink it’s been cut with urinal cleaner and you paid $400 for a gram of it then it’s time to chill and do the master cleanse for a bit.
No, don’t…don’t you fucking try to get up and walk away from me Ke$ha! There are dogs outside in the lobby, Ke$ha and they’re rented for another 3 hours now sit the fuck back down.
And yes it is getting out of hand. Remember that guy you were hanging around with for a while? The one you woke up next to in Death Valley that you thought was going to marry you?
Sweetie, no. That wasn’t a fashion designer. That was a hobo. That was a vagrant man who you ran around telling everyone that he was going to take you away on his elephants to be his desert princess. That was the chronicle homeless dude that pisses behind my garbage cans on Friday nights.
What I’m telling you was Gummy Pete’s love was not your drug, his drug was his drug. Unless you could melt his love in a bent spoon and inject it.
Or crush it up in a straw and smoke it over tinfoil out of a hollowed out bic pen. Whatever. Your relationship with GP was grosser even than the 40 year old mentally disabled anorexic you were grinding in that 3OH3 video.
It was awful. All I’m trying to get though to you is that if you keep running around with these men every night you’ll wind up like one of the hookers who stays at my hotel. Coming down every morning to pay the day in cash.
Now like I said I have no problem with the drunk and slutty but you need to pick your vices. You can’t do all of them or it stops being fun and rebellious and just starts looking like Project Open Hand clientel.
Do you know what else though? This is the funny thing… I actually don’t really buy the wild young rock star act. No, I don’t. I think you want to sing, I just don’t think this was what you had in mind. the rolling around in dirt, the never washing your hair the glitter huffing… the near constant auto tune. I think, deep down, maybe you just want to sing soulful choir tunes in a placid green cardigan and sign with a small label. wearing daisy dukes 24-7 has got to be chaffing your bits, huh?
There, there. Cry it out. Have a Ti$$ue. and when your done go wash your face and we’ll go find you something conservative from J. Crew.