By Lex March 18, 2014 @ 3:36 PM
I come to this tale with a little jealousy. I’ve been wanting to vomit on Lady Gaga’s face long before this fancy pants performance artist came and spit up colored milk all over her damaged koala looking frontside. I once saw a performance artist shove a potato up her ass and recite the names of the Presidents she claimed were responsible for imperialism. It made me feel ashamed, mostly for the lengths I went to get laid in college. That tuber up the ass was minor spectacle compared to seeing Millie Brown bulimia her colorful dairy all over Gaga at SXSW, that festival in Austin that you really need to start telling people you attended. Fuck Coachella, this is the new hipster cool points. Lady Gaga found being barfed on so liberating that she posted a picture of herself naked in the bathtub cleaning off the puke:
I loved every moment with you Austin. Last nights show healed my soul. Creative Rebellion is ARTPOP. Release yourself from every expectation. Be free.
If that doesn’t inspire you to want to have some nasty chick upchuck spoiled cream on you, nothing will. I can only imagine how millions of Little Monsters have reordered their disaffected teen bucket lists, completely forgoing their previous goal of having a gay BFF who holds them while they cut the word ARTPOP into their flabby forearms.
Demi Lovato, a known eating disorder sufferer, sees the liberating puking performance art a bit differently. She thought it glorified bulimia and took to Twitter to talk truth to power:
Demi Lovato then went on to Tweet some more analogies about cutting and drugs and other things under her broad life experiences belt. She raised the important philosophical point that just because you call something ‘art’ doesn’t mean it’s inherently worthwhile. Sadly, she couldn’t complete the logic circle and bring that back to her own musical endeavors. The puking performance artist countered Demi Lovato’s assertions with a whole bunch of chatter that made no sense and gave me a huge fucking headache to try and understand. I think it mostly boiled down to, my dad never loved me, so I’m gonna keep on barfing milk on whoever the hell I want. Female empowerment is so incredibly complicated. We really need to work on getting more girls into sports.
Photo Credit: www.littlemonsters.com
By Travis March 14, 2014 @ 10:00 AM
Lady Gaga performed at the Doritos #BoldStage last night at SXSW in Austin, and the reason that it was so bold was less because of the radical hashtags and more because Lady Gaga had a random woman vomit on her during the song “Swine.” While I’m not one to knock a good puke performance, it would have been much better if the girl with the electrical tape over her nipples didn’t make it so obvious that she was either about to puke or piss on someone or something. Also, she shouldn’t have to try so hard to make herself vomit on Lady Gaga. That kind of act should come naturally, thanks to years of the singer making us all sick with her fucked up attention whoring.
Photo Credits: Getty
By Lex February 19, 2014 @ 5:21 PM
I’m trying hard to be more open minded about my traditional rock music playlists. I sampled an Atlas Genius song the other night and thought, man, this really wouldn’t be half bad with a glass of Merlot and my child abusing uncle’s dick in my ass. Yet, I can’t fathom Lady Gaga. I accept the appeal of the Madonna ripoff. Who doesn’t love catchy tunes about being feeling a tingle in your special place. But this doleful dramatic crap, who can this possibly be for? Outside of rich white girls stepping into the ether off of their boarding school roofs, is anybody cranking up this tune on their iPod?
Photo Credit: Pacific Coast News, Splash
By Lex February 18, 2014 @ 3:51 PM
When you see Lady Gaga in her underwear in Manhattan, you just know something sexually charged is about to go down. Like a drug-fueled gang rape in Central Park. The flailing pop star made her way to the new Tonight Show to welcome Jimmy Fallon along with a weird array of celebrities entering the stage in a horribly stretched out opening bit. Gaga’s also booked as the big musical act for the second show tonight. This is part of the attempt of the Tonight Show to capture the disaffected troubled youth demo that stopped watching television when they discovered the entertainment value in cutting.
Photo Credit: AKM-GSI, WENN
By Lex February 13, 2014 @ 2:19 PM
After that good cry she had on New Year’s Day where she reminded herself that her awesomeness is more important than petty fighting, Lady Gaga has returned to doing what she does best, absurdist airbrushed photos of herself in stupid outfits. Sometimes she’s naked. I call this the tolerable moments. But mostly she’s just being her awesome self assisting trannies decide what women’s cutting edge fashions would look best on them. Some people are calling Lady Gaga the next Yoko Ono. This seems about right.
Photo Credit: Harper’s Bazaar
By Lex February 06, 2014 @ 5:38 PM
2013 was a tough year for Lady Gaga. If you discount the $50 million she got paid to share John Travolta’s tranny closet, it was a shitty twelve months. Lady Gaga had so many Twitter battles and fights with her gays that by the end of the year, she couldn’t even feel her own heartbeat. I’m not sure anybody can feel their own heartbeat, but not everybody is Lady Gaga. She can sense her organs at work. She can feel her ovaries producing reptilian eggs. When the cardiac muscle went quiet, she knew she was suffering from a super bad case of the rich white girl problems.
“January 1, I woke up, started crying again, and I looked in the mirror and said, ‘I know you don’t want to fight. I know you think you can’t, but you’ve done this before. I know it hurts, but you won’t survive this depression.’… I learned that my sadness never destroyed what was great about me. You just have to go back to that greatness, find that one little light that’s left. I’m lucky I found one little glimmer stored away.”
Hey, sometimes you have to face yourself in the mirror to honestly assess your own awesomeness. If not for yourself, Gaga, then for the world. Scrape that fairy dust off you from your many eccentric artist fights and get back to being the greatest great person ever in the history of great. You really can’t start recovery until you hit your highest manic heights. I say she’s all cured now. Or jumping naked off the Brooklyn Bridge by March. You never know where that little light will take you.