I really don’t like the Pussycat Dolls because..well …because I have half a brain..but due to their very high, glossy, production values, I am still strangely drawn to them and have a horrible habit of finding myself humming their spanking the monkey, teasing the weasel, tossing the turkey, walking the dog, whipping the willy, wonking your cronker, yanking the crank, little ditties.
However, I do have to confess to thinking that their latest ‘lets-ge-the-7-year-olds-into-thongs’ song had the lyric;
I wanna be famous
I wanna have ‘boobies’..
‘ I wanna have ‘boobies’?? Bloody hell, I thought. I have these women all wrong. Perhaps…they have …omigod..intellect. Perhaps this really was genius post modern satire! I went further.. and actually read an article and tried watching an interview in the hope that these women were actually secret ninja feminists and their songs were a sinister, absurdist take on the world of celebrity pop culture and fame.
Then I actually READ the lyrics. In fact they didn’t want ‘boobies’ (they already have them apparently)… they wanted ‘groupies’
When I grow up
See…’groupie’s folks…’groupies’..… that’s not funny, witty or ironic (English ‘ironic’ not Allanis) . And it doesn’t scan.
Of course it gets worse..
When I grow up
And that my friends, ain’t even English. It don’t even rhyme but hell they are very bendy, wear small clothes and do a marvellous selection of bottom jerks in stilletoes. Who am I trying to kid? I am very disappointed in the Pussycat dolls. They are not, as I thought for one brief glowing moment, subversive. They are just shit. And I still can’t purge that song-cum-advert -for-emptiness from my mind.