a while ago, i posted a confession regarding my not-so-secret love for ke$ha's music. (actually, in searching for that post in my archives, i realized i write about ke$ha a lot. i guess that just reiterates my point.) in response, my friend amanda told me that ke$ha made her own not-so-secret confession that she drank her own urine because someone told her it was good for her.
i have been noodling on this lately, and it makes me wonder: when was the last time ke$ha did something - anything - based solely on the principle that it was good for her? like, if someone was all, 'ke$ha, maybe you should drink a glass of milk. it's good for you,' what would she do? would she drink the milk? because she doesn't really strike me as a milk-drinker, but maybe she would be if someone would just speak up about the health benefits of it.
and if so, then i wonder if the very reason that ke$ha is how she is (and are who she are) boils down to terrible health education? like, no one has ever mentioned that she should maybe consume more plant foods and less urine and alcohol per day? and in that case, how can you not feel bad for her? she is the victim of a flawed education system.
if she is not the recipient of a very poor health education, she probs just felt like drinking her own urine, health considerations aside. and if i know ke$ha (and i think i do) i kind of feel like maybe that is actually what was happening. she just felt like it. and that's a pretty bold move.
quandary solved?
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query ke$ha. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query ke$ha. Sort by date Show all posts
i confess...
i can't keep it a secret any longer, although it's probably in my best interest to do so: i think ke$ha is awesome. well, not her person so much as her music. minus the lyrics.
and what's not to love? i mean, for pete's sake, she has a DOLLAR SIGN IN HER NAME. i tried the whole 'using symbols for letters' thing in my name once: p@!ge is decidedly not cool. (and i don't know why it hyperlinked, but i'm okay with it.) how does ke$ha pull it off?!
plus, everytime her music comes on the radio, i feel like i'm in an exclusive nightclub rather than a minivan. granted, a nightclub that needs its floors mopped and where you'll probably catch hepatitis. but whatever. unfortunately, our minivan-turned-nightclub is no more, because tiny ears + dirtydirtyhobag lyrics = bad parenting.
so when my kids grow up and ask whether i love them, i will tell them that not only did i live through cystic acne during pregnancy, but i also gave up listening to ke$ha for them. and that, friends, is deep, deep maternal love.
(but i'm still going to make it rain glitter every so often, just to keep the memories alive.)
and what's not to love? i mean, for pete's sake, she has a DOLLAR SIGN IN HER NAME. i tried the whole 'using symbols for letters' thing in my name once: p@!ge is decidedly not cool. (and i don't know why it hyperlinked, but i'm okay with it.) how does ke$ha pull it off?!
plus, everytime her music comes on the radio, i feel like i'm in an exclusive nightclub rather than a minivan. granted, a nightclub that needs its floors mopped and where you'll probably catch hepatitis. but whatever. unfortunately, our minivan-turned-nightclub is no more, because tiny ears + dirtydirtyhobag lyrics = bad parenting.
so when my kids grow up and ask whether i love them, i will tell them that not only did i live through cystic acne during pregnancy, but i also gave up listening to ke$ha for them. and that, friends, is deep, deep maternal love.
(but i'm still going to make it rain glitter every so often, just to keep the memories alive.)
it's a legitimate question.
is it okay to love ke$ha if i pray for her soul while i listen to her songs? because if loving ke$ha is wrong, i'm not sure i want to be right. although, i do love being right. probably more than i love ke$ha. i'm so confused.
how mumford & sons has restored some of my hope in humanity.
errrrrbdy and their mom likes mumford & sons, am i right? i admit i'm no different; i mean, it makes sense, considering i'm a sucker for most things banjo and plus, they're mumford and who doesn't like mumford?! and i'm not even going to lie to you and say something like, 'i loved mumford before they were cool' or whatever. i didn't. before they were cool, i had never heard of them, and then i had still never heard their music until well after they had become popular. i was pretty late jumping on this bandwagon, but once i did, i jumped on it all willy-nilly and without care.
(which leads me to a tangent: don't be a 'i liked _____ before it was popular' person. that guy is an ass. who the crap cares when you started liking it? is this supposed to make me think more highly of you than if you had started liking it six months later than you did? and the even ass-ier guy is the one who stops liking whatever it is as soon as he thinks it's becoming too popular, or looks down on people for only liking that thing 'because everyone else does.' that guy is the walking definition of 'stinky turd.')
anyway. i'm, in fact, encouraged by the very fact that EVERYONE loves mumford. and here's why:
1. it gives me hope that people can still recognize quality. mumford is legit. there are plenty of one-trick ponies out there, cranking out the electronic reruns of songs we've already heard just because that makes for big money and fast fame. or the music is half-decent, but the lyrics are insipid. i mean, in.sip.id. don't get me wrong, i really do love Train as much as the next guy, but they are a prime example of the fact that you can be a band of total lyrical retards and still be insanely popular. even people in comas 'get' Train songs. or take ke$ha. if you ever hear a mumford song about wanting to see some guy's dirty briefs, you'd probably assume that it has some deep and philosophical meaning about the afterlife that you can only pretend to get. ke$ha, on the other hand? you know she's just singing about seeing some guy's dirty briefs. the only thing you may not understand is just how dirty those briefs might be.
2. it gives me hope that people can still recognize talent. katy perry has a cat named Kitty Purry, which in my book should be the foundational principle upon which people respect her. and rightly so: that is some funny stuff, people. but beyond that, there's really no explicable reason that she's famous, other than that pop-radio enthusiasts are idiots. except for when they, out of nowhere, band together and scream, "MORE MUMFORD & SONS." unexpected, really. but a welcome change of pace.
3. they are not famous because they writhe. and that gives me hope that there may someday be less writhing in this world, generally speaking. we little people like to mimic the famous. at least if we're mimicking the guys in mumford & sons, we'll probably just stand there like normal people most of the time, and maybe make a few weird faces when we're getting really intense. i can live with that.
4. they sing (realistically) about death. when we're listening to full albums in the car, atticus likes to play the game, 'he's singing about dying again!' they're not into this whole YOLO culture that acts like dying is for someday and acting like drunk, horny primates is for now.
5. BANJO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ERRRRBDY LOVES BANJO AGAIN! it was a sad day when bob dylan plugged in that electric guitar way back when. i blame him for the individual jackson careers. and jock jams. but i'm feeling that we may be coming full circle, and i'm hoping that maybe the fiddle? steel guitar? mandolin? are soon to follow. in a not-toby-keith kind of way.
so, yes. to sum up, i love this band, not only because they're talented, but because their immense popularity makes me feel like we are not all as stupid about music as i would have assumed.
but seriously, though, on a side note: if i hear 'i will wait for you' one more time on the radio, i WILL light something on fire.
(which leads me to a tangent: don't be a 'i liked _____ before it was popular' person. that guy is an ass. who the crap cares when you started liking it? is this supposed to make me think more highly of you than if you had started liking it six months later than you did? and the even ass-ier guy is the one who stops liking whatever it is as soon as he thinks it's becoming too popular, or looks down on people for only liking that thing 'because everyone else does.' that guy is the walking definition of 'stinky turd.')
anyway. i'm, in fact, encouraged by the very fact that EVERYONE loves mumford. and here's why:
1. it gives me hope that people can still recognize quality. mumford is legit. there are plenty of one-trick ponies out there, cranking out the electronic reruns of songs we've already heard just because that makes for big money and fast fame. or the music is half-decent, but the lyrics are insipid. i mean, in.sip.id. don't get me wrong, i really do love Train as much as the next guy, but they are a prime example of the fact that you can be a band of total lyrical retards and still be insanely popular. even people in comas 'get' Train songs. or take ke$ha. if you ever hear a mumford song about wanting to see some guy's dirty briefs, you'd probably assume that it has some deep and philosophical meaning about the afterlife that you can only pretend to get. ke$ha, on the other hand? you know she's just singing about seeing some guy's dirty briefs. the only thing you may not understand is just how dirty those briefs might be.
2. it gives me hope that people can still recognize talent. katy perry has a cat named Kitty Purry, which in my book should be the foundational principle upon which people respect her. and rightly so: that is some funny stuff, people. but beyond that, there's really no explicable reason that she's famous, other than that pop-radio enthusiasts are idiots. except for when they, out of nowhere, band together and scream, "MORE MUMFORD & SONS." unexpected, really. but a welcome change of pace.
3. they are not famous because they writhe. and that gives me hope that there may someday be less writhing in this world, generally speaking. we little people like to mimic the famous. at least if we're mimicking the guys in mumford & sons, we'll probably just stand there like normal people most of the time, and maybe make a few weird faces when we're getting really intense. i can live with that.
4. they sing (realistically) about death. when we're listening to full albums in the car, atticus likes to play the game, 'he's singing about dying again!' they're not into this whole YOLO culture that acts like dying is for someday and acting like drunk, horny primates is for now.
5. BANJO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ERRRRBDY LOVES BANJO AGAIN! it was a sad day when bob dylan plugged in that electric guitar way back when. i blame him for the individual jackson careers. and jock jams. but i'm feeling that we may be coming full circle, and i'm hoping that maybe the fiddle? steel guitar? mandolin? are soon to follow. in a not-toby-keith kind of way.
so, yes. to sum up, i love this band, not only because they're talented, but because their immense popularity makes me feel like we are not all as stupid about music as i would have assumed.
but seriously, though, on a side note: if i hear 'i will wait for you' one more time on the radio, i WILL light something on fire.
eight hundred: it's like the movie 300 with like 500 more guys.
this is my 800th blog post. why have you people tolerated me for 800 blog posts? i judge you a little, to be honest, because i'm a moron but you keep reading.
(actually, no, that's not true. well, it is true that i'm a moron, but it's not true that i judge you. i love you and adore you and will bake you a pie if you don't leave me.)
anyway. that's crazy. that means that next year sometime i will cross the 'one thousand posts' mark and i'm already thinking up some kind of awesome giveaway. if you have any ideas for what i should give away, shoot me an email. right now i'm thinking about some kind of large, smoked meat. we all know you'd enter that giveaway.
anyway, i'm not going to let the impending large-scale blog milestone steal my joy from today. today, in celebration of eight hundred posts, i give myself (and you too!) free rein to make fun of anything and everything i (you) feel like. you know, in the spirit of 'the minivan voorsts.' i think i personally am going to start with josh groban.
also, in honor of the big eight-oh-oh (say that like ke$ha would say it and you've got yourself a hit and probably a communicable disease), i'm going to 'fess up to something: i have big plans for the blog in the new year. like, a header with more than just boring text. and some color!! and maybe a photo of me on the sidebar in which i'm throwing the wink and the gun. maybe not that last part, i haven't decided. but you all have been so sweet to come here almost everyday, and say nice things to me, and not report me to dhs, that i figured i should make it a little more interesting once you get here.
so sometime in january, put on your wizard of oz sunglasses, we're about to go technicolor!
(actually, no, that's not true. well, it is true that i'm a moron, but it's not true that i judge you. i love you and adore you and will bake you a pie if you don't leave me.)
anyway. that's crazy. that means that next year sometime i will cross the 'one thousand posts' mark and i'm already thinking up some kind of awesome giveaway. if you have any ideas for what i should give away, shoot me an email. right now i'm thinking about some kind of large, smoked meat. we all know you'd enter that giveaway.
anyway, i'm not going to let the impending large-scale blog milestone steal my joy from today. today, in celebration of eight hundred posts, i give myself (and you too!) free rein to make fun of anything and everything i (you) feel like. you know, in the spirit of 'the minivan voorsts.' i think i personally am going to start with josh groban.
also, in honor of the big eight-oh-oh (say that like ke$ha would say it and you've got yourself a hit and probably a communicable disease), i'm going to 'fess up to something: i have big plans for the blog in the new year. like, a header with more than just boring text. and some color!! and maybe a photo of me on the sidebar in which i'm throwing the wink and the gun. maybe not that last part, i haven't decided. but you all have been so sweet to come here almost everyday, and say nice things to me, and not report me to dhs, that i figured i should make it a little more interesting once you get here.
so sometime in january, put on your wizard of oz sunglasses, we're about to go technicolor!
oops, i did it again.
aah, that song brings memories of the original ke$ha.
anyway. i thought i was in labor again on monday night. so guess what i did? i called my mom and sister to come because 'THIS IS IT!' and come they did. and then go home the next day they did, after nothing ended up happening (besides me crying and kicking some stuff).
BUT. i went to see my midwife, who discovered the baby is face-up instead of in the normal face-down position. not to get too science-talk on you, but apparently her weird positioning is putting uneven pressure on my cervix (yikes. why can i not even type that without getting the creeps?), which causes my body to start and stop labor. so there really is a valid, scientific reason for my cluelessness! which is more reassuring than it should be, really. i just like to know that i'm not being an idiot for no reason.
so, i have a chiro appointment scheduled for this morning to hopefully get her to flip around. (i SWEAR by chiropractors for stuff like this. my awesome doctor in ames got penelope out of the breech position - twice - and also did a specific adjustment to send me into labor; she was born within 24 hours, and the only one of my kids to be born before her due date. take-away point: find an awesome chiropractor and rely on them to fix anything that goes wrong in your life.)
really, though, this is getting ridiculous. i am worried that i won't be convinced that it's labor when it IS actually labor, and i'll end up waiting too long to go to the hospital, so then i'll have some crazy homebirth and i'll get my pretty new rug all nasty and then have to bite the umbilical cord free by myself. that will be super gross and sad, and all because my crazy cervix is sending drunk texts to the rest of me.
but i guess it's like i always say, all i can do is cross my fingers that i won't have to chew through my baby's umbilical cord when that time actually comes.
anyway. i thought i was in labor again on monday night. so guess what i did? i called my mom and sister to come because 'THIS IS IT!' and come they did. and then go home the next day they did, after nothing ended up happening (besides me crying and kicking some stuff).
BUT. i went to see my midwife, who discovered the baby is face-up instead of in the normal face-down position. not to get too science-talk on you, but apparently her weird positioning is putting uneven pressure on my cervix (yikes. why can i not even type that without getting the creeps?), which causes my body to start and stop labor. so there really is a valid, scientific reason for my cluelessness! which is more reassuring than it should be, really. i just like to know that i'm not being an idiot for no reason.
so, i have a chiro appointment scheduled for this morning to hopefully get her to flip around. (i SWEAR by chiropractors for stuff like this. my awesome doctor in ames got penelope out of the breech position - twice - and also did a specific adjustment to send me into labor; she was born within 24 hours, and the only one of my kids to be born before her due date. take-away point: find an awesome chiropractor and rely on them to fix anything that goes wrong in your life.)
really, though, this is getting ridiculous. i am worried that i won't be convinced that it's labor when it IS actually labor, and i'll end up waiting too long to go to the hospital, so then i'll have some crazy homebirth and i'll get my pretty new rug all nasty and then have to bite the umbilical cord free by myself. that will be super gross and sad, and all because my crazy cervix is sending drunk texts to the rest of me.
but i guess it's like i always say, all i can do is cross my fingers that i won't have to chew through my baby's umbilical cord when that time actually comes.
thwr: musically transmitted disease.
paige: john mayer sounds like syphilis.
*****
todd: i heard there's a new strain called hepatitis K. the K stands for ke$ha.
and that's how we roll.
*****
todd: i heard there's a new strain called hepatitis K. the K stands for ke$ha.
and that's how we roll.
days three and four of our trip to the black hills.
on sunday, i was totally pumped to take the kids on a hike. it's beautiful up there and YOU GUYS, THE DIRT IS MADE OF GLITTER. i'm not even kidding. it's like everyone's driveway has been kissed by ke$ha. plus, there are rocks that are made of this flaky mother-of-pearl-lookin' stuff. it's gorgeous. i was planning on gathering me up some pretties. oh, and also, letting the kids enjoy nature. that too.
this was the last happy photo snapped of me that morning.
because, like 10 minutes into our hike, i stepped off a rock (not one pictured above; it was about the height of a laying-down collie) and my weak ankle gave out and i fell and it killed and i SCREAMED LIKE THE DICKENS. and the dickens can scream, let me tell you.
seriously, though. todd told me to stop screaming like that and i was all, I CAAAAAANNNNNNNNNNNNNNT!!! (sometimes, even now, when i think back to the moment i fell, my stomach turns and i feel like throwing up. just from the memory of how bad it hurt.) and obviously, if i couldn't stop yelling about the pain, there was no way on earth i could walk back home on my own. so he alternatingly had to play 'human crutch time!' and also carry me up the hill to get back home. in between spurts of me trying to tough it out and crawl on all fours while bawling like a girl baby. it was a pretty sight, i must say.
at least the kids had fun walking home.
needless to say, we laid low the rest of the day. also, atticus got close enough to a bird that he could have gotten lice just by sharing its air. i'm pretty sure he didn't, though.
the next day, we all went to mount rushmore, which was more of a rush than the hike. HAHAHAHAHA. haha. no, really, though, i hate that joke and i hate myself a little for telling it. oh well.
also, the kids were obviously beyond thrilled to see such a breathtaking tribute to our great leaders.
and, lastly, penelope sums up the day in the most succinct and adorable way possible. you'll die. i swear you will.
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