Starting to Like Kesha-and Hating Myself

I know. Kesha is annoying. She puts the “vap” in vapid. She is totally anathema to the way I feel about music. She is manufactured, electronic, garbage whose lyrics are an insult to not only musicians everywhere, but the English language at large.

And I can’t stop myself from being a fan of hers.

As much as I hate to admit it, her music is catchy. Sort of like the flu. It grows on you. Sort of like fungus. But, unlike the respective disease and microorganism, you want Kesha in your life.

I want to be part of her world. I want her to be part of mine. I would burst into flames (in a good way) if I ever saw her in concert. I am assailed by self-loathing and shame but I don’t care. I am a Kesha fan. Self-respect is overrated anyhow.

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