An Open Letter to Ke$ha
I would like to preface this letter by saying Happy Holidays. I’m not sure what it is you celebrate, exactly, so I’m just going to give you a generic, blanket greeting to ensure I don’t offend you, or your beliefs, or lack thereof. I used to think you were an absolute train wreck. I couldn’t fathom how someone who presumably hadn’t showered in the past twenty years could be a pop star. But after going into hiding for a little while, you recently resurfaced, and I love everything about what you’re doing. From your cleaned-up appearance, to your recent fashion choices (such as that little pink lace number at the AMAs), to your hilarious, satirical dating advice video, I think it’s safe to say you’re now a changed woman. I’m ecstatic for you. It was time for you to realize that dressing like an idiot, and acting like one, purely for shock value is better left to Rihanna (whom I’m SO over by the way).
I know you might have talked about wanting to make out with Allen from The Hangover, and you claimed to have had sex with a ghost, but I actually understand you. I think all you are is a bizarre girl who’s done a few too many experimental drugs and likes to pretend she can sing. I won’t officially condone experimental drug use, but I can clearly see it’s helped you grow as a performer, and obviously you’re showing us all it’s possible to get your shit together and pull off a mini dress once in a while. Think about it, Ke$ha, you’re like what could happen if Lindsay Lohan ever takes rehab seriously. Kidding, you’re way prettier than she is.
Aside from being impressed with your makeover and your most recent, hilarious interviews, I was obsessed with the first single, “Die Young,” on your new album. You’ve finally found your niche, which is making amazing pre-game/party music and weird videos that no one fully understands to accompany them. After hearing “Die Young,” I had officially become the captain of Team K-E-dollar sign-Ha. As if all the recent changes weren’t enough, you just released the second single from “Warrior” and I AM HAVING A MOMENT WITH IT. I’m serious. I’ve been sitting in my room drinking a combination of Smirnoff Ices and Mike’s Hard Lemonades dancing around to it for the past 9 hours. I feel like I’m 16 again. You are a genius.
I guess what I’m trying to say is I’m sorry for judging you so harshly when you first came onto the scene. The only person who’s ever been really and truly destined for immediate, no-fail stardom is Britney, after all. The rest of you are just lost, little souls trying to do the Princess of Pop a little bit of justice in your musical endeavors. I used to think you would be a lost cause, a one-hit wonder, but it’s clear to me now you’re much more than that. You represent the metamorphosis every party girl goes through: at first, you seem like a hot mess who can’t get her shit together, find an outfit that is appropriate for any function, or discuss any subject matter outside of blacking out and making out with randoms, but then, after you take some time off and/or get sent to boarding school, you realize it’s possible to find a balance in life. You’ve proven you don’t have to tone down your partying at all, you just have to make it look like you have so you can get people to take you seriously, and save yourself from getting written out of your grandparents’ will. You’ve learned that a bar of soap and some deep conditioner can go a long way. You’ve been able to balance the life of someone who loves to rage, but still likes to put on a cute dress every once in a while to mess with people.
You’re an inspiration to all of us, and your love of glitter is something to be admired. Also, I always appreciate a girl who can make fun of herself and her past decisions, as you’ve been doing lately. I truly think you’re my spirit animal, and for once, I’m proud to publicly announce this.
So, Ke$h, I think it’s safe to say we can finally hang out. I’m sorry I misunderstood you before, and I’m really sorry for blowing you off for the past few years. After you’re done reading this, or more likely having someone read it to you since I’m pretty sure you’re illiterate, I’ll be waiting in the back with the Jack at the juke box…if the offer still stands, that is.
Love you. No really. I do,
PS: This video is pure, glittery gold.