Like, brother and sister perfect.I had only heard of her, I had never listened to any of her music but I was impressed by the way she effortlessly lowered the bar of masturbation fodder for teenage boys. She wore cowboy boots, an American flag fashioned into a skirt and the shredded remnants of dirty tights. One half of her face was covered in glitter, the other half in smeared mascara and matted hair. She looked as though she had just barely survived six flues in a row. Still, I am human and a slave to sexual opportunity.
Curse you, biological imperative.She writhed around Kennyâs living room to southern rock, the tender buds beneath her shirt pointed in my direction as if to say, âWe should get on top of each other.â âOK,â I said. âOK what?â she stopped dancing. âSorry, I thought your breasts were asking me something.â Ke$ha reeled back and hit me across the face. I moved to protect myself but she slapped my hand away and grabbed me by the hair, forcing my forehead against hers. âYou wanna kiss me?â she asked. No one else at the party seemed alarmed. âMaybe we should slow down.â âBlah blah blah,â she said in the voice of a child. Then she unhinged her jaw and tried to fit my face in her mouth.