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May 3, 2011 / iainnd

An Open Letter To Kesha (or Ke$ha)

Dear Kesha;

First up, I hope it’s not too presumptuous to refer to you by your civilian name rather than your stage name (with the dollar sign), but I figure I should get used to it. See, the reason I’m writing to you is because I am thoroughly convinced that we could – nay, verily we should – be best friends. It is very difficult for me to keep this letter brief, as the reasons are so vastly numerous. Below I’ve listed the most important ones, only some of them involving my dong.

I’ll be honest; when I first heard your music, I was less than thrilled and somewhat confused and probably had an aneurism. I was unfamiliar with the manner in which P Diddy wakes up and thought there was something inherently ill-advised about brushing one’s teeth with Tennessee whiskey. But later – I think it was around the time I heard your song about glory holes – it finally hit me. Your entire image is satire. You exaggerate all the worst things about today’s music industry not to embrace current trends, but to mock them. Your almost unfathomable trashiness, your insanely questionable lyrics, the fact that you deliberately make your music terrible by using Auto-Tune on spoken word parts; I get it now. You have out-Pinked Pink. The Black Eyed Peas don’t even know what they’re doing anymore. Like Soulja Boi, you make up words and phrases (“neck-a-luss”? Silly Kesha, that’s not even close to how you say “necklace!”) and just fuckin’ roll with it, not even pretending to give them meaning, but you’re self-aware. You know it’s ridiculous, and that’s the point. You’re the music industry’s The Expendables.

In English class back in aught four, my buddy McGann decided purely out of boredom that he and I should write a song. We started with the title. We prompted someone sitting nearby to say something. The response was “say what?” and thus the song was titled Say What. It was about this guy who wanted this girl, but was having trouble letting her know. Then at the end it was revealed that she felt the same way about him, and she also didn’t know how to show it. You might have heard it when it was called You Belong With Me. Or when it was called Everything You Want. Or when it was called Sk8r Boi. Or when it was called any number of other songs that share the same premise. My point is we wrote a very cliché song with a silly title. Sound like someone you know? Boom. You and me, right there, instant BFF songwriting partnership. You’re welcome. We also wrote a song called Scissors, Paper, Rock that was about fapping. That could be used as a B-side or whatever.

But it’s not just professional reasons we should hang out and race go-karts and stand on each other’s shoulders in a long coat to sneak into the R-rated movie. We can relate on many important issues. I note that while riding in a DeLorean recently, you had the appropriate response of “fuck yeah,” a sentiment I share about all things regarding Back to the Future. I imagine us having excellent adventures (see what I did?), travelling through time saving the day and partying long into the night with famous historical figures. Hell, maybe human evolution began after we partied too hard, so I pulled over billions of years ago so you could puke, then somehow accidentally made life (note to self: possible web-series?).

On that note, like you, I understand that when you party hard enough, people start getting all “problem drinker” this and “violently irresponsible” that (and I party so hard that – and this isn’t even that big of a deal, you guys, so just calm down – Andrew WK follows me on Twitter). And if we get sick of people talking to us that way, we could go on the run. Just you and me, a couple of mercenaries, taking whatever risky and exciting jobs come our way, like an impossibly even-more-badass Han Solo and a sticky Chewbacca.

Now, something that had to come up eventually – the sex. Let’s not deny that we’re bound to have sex at some point during our BFFhood, even if accidentally. In fact, like most people, I might have slept with you already and just not realised it. This is likely considering how threateningly handsome and good at fucking I am, and Wikipedia tells me that you don’t know who your father is, and my friends think I have a thing for girls with daddy issues but they’re idiots and can shut up. My point is, if we do end up just going at it (like straight up) let’s not make a big deal out of it. I mean, at least I won’t, so whatever. Also, you look as though you like being choked and I’m up for that.

“Wait a second Iain,” you say, probably. “You make a solid argument. Plus, your sideburns are fantastic and I bet you can do all the pull ups. I am totally on board to be besties with you, but I just have one question. This all seems too good to be true, what hefty fee must I pay, what grave sacrifice must I make, in order to prove that I am worthy of being the best friend of someone so great and knowledgeable of all things Batman?” Well, my soon-to-be slumber party buddy, I have great news for you. If my interactions with my current best friend, Aaron, are any indication, it’s not all that hard. Really, all you have to do is drink with me, send me messages about things that are so dumb that nobody else would appreciate them, and talk about butts. This includes, but is not limited to, discussing: touching butts, putting things in butts, people who have butts for faces, zany schemes to get girls to let us touch their butts, changing song lyrics to be about butts, and replacing words from common phrases with the word butt. Also you have to give me at least one slut every time I come to visit, and we must share meaningful heterosexual man-hugs any time we see each other (I shower often so your stickiness should not be an issue).

I look forward to your reply, preferably in song format.

Yours more sincerely than you think (but not sincerely enough to get lawyers involved);

I.G. Newton-Doull, your gutter-buddy.

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5 Comments

Leave a Comment
  1. fishdick fish / May 3 2011 12:43 pm

    Brilliant

  2. Anonymous / May 4 2011 4:59 am

    BFF, you forgot to mention one of your finest qualities… your soft, silky hair… I'm just saying…

  3. Anonymous / May 30 2011 6:21 am

    haha. Butts.

  4. Anonymous / Jun 4 2012 7:40 am

    Your sideburns are lucious.

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