Kee-Dollar Sign-Ha

I have been possessed by Ke$ha, for some odd reason. I know she is not a good role model for my kids, and I don’t care for her “garbage-chic” style. I’ve never been one to go to clubs with “glitter on my eyes, stockings ripped up the side, lookin’ sick and sexy-fied.” However, I do love pop music, and she makes “music” that gets in my head, takes over my body and makes me want to start dancin’ like I’m dumb-dum-duh-duh-duh-dumb. I’ve found myself downloading many of her songs and listening to them at home, in the car and on the treadmill. And her lyrics! They are the best part. Here, you judge:

Hot and dangerous
If you’re one of us then roll with us
‘Cause we make the hipsters fall in love
When we got our hot pants on and up
And yes of course we does
We runnin’ this town just like a club
And no you don’t wanna mess with us
Got Jesus on my necklace (lace-ace)
-from We R Who We R — Genius, huh?

And then there’s Tik Tok

Wake up in the morning feelin’ like P Diddy (Hey, what up girl?)
Got my glasses, I’m out the door, I’m gonna hit this city (Let’s go)
Before I leave, brush my teeth with a bottle of Jack
‘Cause when I leave for the night, I ain’t coming back…

And how about Blow

Dirt and glitter cover the floor
We’re pretty and sick
We’re young and we’re bored
It’s time to lose your mind
And let the crazy out…

Seriously, what’s not to love about Ke$ha?!?!?

Ok, you can call me crazy and inappropriate. I know I shouldn’t be playing Ke$ha in the company of young ears, but pop music is like an addiction for me.  It’s going to get me in trouble, I know. Both of my girls know a few lyrics from Tik Tok. The other day, the elder sassily sang along with, “The party don’t start ’til I walk in…”

And my not-quite-3-year-old frequently asks to hear the song “Tik Tok on the Clock,” though with her little speech quirks, it comes out as, “I want Kick Cock on the Cock!”

Yup, Kick Cock on the Cock. For some reason, I bet Ke$ha would go for that.

If these two head down the "garbage-chic" path, it's all my fault, I know. Can you picture them singing: We sellin' our clothes, sleepin' in cars, dressin' it down, hittin' on dudes. Hard. (We R Who We R).



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