Coke Talk of the Day
Okay. I’ve about had it with this Kesha bitch.
Sure, her music sucks. She’s taking a glittery shit all over pop music with her derivative, autotuned excuse for ear porn, but hey, who isn’t? This is LA after all, and I can forgive the sin of being a no-talent fame whore.
What I can’t forgive is the soulless, unironic vulgarity it takes to spell your name with a currency symbol and the narcissistic expectation that the world should then follow suit.
I say no. I refuse to include that tacky-as-fuck cash sign in the middle of her white trash gutter cunt of a name.
There was a time in our lives when dotting our i’s with little hearts was appropriate, and that time was in the fourth fucking grade.
Shit. Even then, we kept it to stars and hearts and the occasional unicorn. You know why? Because even the gaudiest grade school trailer rat had enough class not to decorate her porn-ready birth name with a god damned dollar sign.
Please, people. If you insist on writing about Kesha, have the decency to ignore that stupid currency symbol and spell her name as if she were any other Daytona Beach day-shift stripper.
It’s the least you can do, and the most she deserves.
