Lady Kaka
Never truly believing Kylie to be a princess or Madonna to be my queen – I know I’m a bad fag. Shoot me! – I wasn’t thrilled when Lady Gaga first showed up on our dance but willing to give her a go. At first, her songs did appeal to me. At first, I didn’t even know who she was. So I danced and I boogied, muttering words I didn’t understand. Words, I’m not even sure SHE understood. Then came the videos. It was soon utterly impossible to chill out with my friends without one of them begging to go onto YouTube and making us watch her latest clip. That’s when I truly started to saturate. What’s so fucking amazing about her? Huh?
I won’t deny her, her flair for drama or her outrageous outfits. I’ll even go as far as saying that her tunes are catchy (in a Britney Spears, before she shaved off her hair, kinda way). I’ll also admit that I was hooked on the rumours about her being a hermaphrodite. Only, she wasn’t. What a big disappointment that was. She was just a girl, like any other girl. Probably a fag hag in high school too. A girl with abnormally high high heels – apparently platform shoes didn’t get it that wrong! A girl with glasses the size of my toilet seat. A girl whose entire body was covered up in silk or spandex – sometimes hiding her face, as though she thought the burka to be the ultimate fashion accessory! A girl, quite frankly, was starting to get on my nerve.
Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah! Roma-roma-ma! Gaga-oh-la-la! SHUT UUUUUP!
That’s when all Hell broke loose. That’s when they started to play her five times a night. In every single disco, I went to, over and over again: Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah! Roma-roma-ma! Gaga-oh-la-la!
Now, some quick maths! Within the space of a single song (I’m not even talking remixes here), how many times does she burp out the following lyrics? Don’t listen to the song again to check (I did it for you – God, I’m dedicated to the cause!), I’ll tell you: five times. Bare minimum! So five times five? Anyone? That gives us a grand total of twenty-five times per average night out. And it looks something like this:
Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah! Roma-roma-ma! Gaga-oh-la-la! Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah! Roma-roma-ma! Gaga-oh-la-la! Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah! Roma-roma-ma! Gaga-oh-la-la! Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah! Roma-roma-ma! Gaga-oh-la-la! Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah! Roma-roma-ma! Gaga-oh-la-la! Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah! Roma-roma-ma! Gaga-oh-la-la! Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah! Roma-roma-ma! Gaga-oh-la-la! Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah! Roma-roma-ma! Gaga-oh-la-la! Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah! Roma-roma-ma! Gaga-oh-la-la! Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah! Roma-roma-ma! Gaga-oh-la-la! Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah! Roma-roma-ma! Gaga-oh-la-la! Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah! Roma-roma-ma! Gaga-oh-la-la! Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah! Roma-roma-ma! Gaga-oh-la-la! Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah! Roma-roma-ma! Gaga-oh-la-la! Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah! Roma-roma-ma! Gaga-oh-la-la! Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah! Roma-roma-ma! Gaga-oh-la-la! Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah! Roma-roma-ma! Gaga-oh-la-la! Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah! Roma-roma-ma! Gaga-oh-la-la! Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah! Roma-roma-ma! Gaga-oh-la-la! Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah! Roma-roma-ma! Gaga-oh-la-la! Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah! Roma-roma-ma! Gaga-oh-la-la! Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah! Roma-roma-ma! Gaga-oh-la-la! Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah! Roma-roma-ma! Gaga-oh-la-la! Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah! Roma-roma-ma! Gaga-oh-la-la! Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah! Roma-roma-ma! Gaga-oh-la-la!
Try reading that without getting a headache! Now, imagine that every single queen that surrounds you turns to you at that exact moment and starts busting out the lyrics in your face! Rah-rah-ah-ah-ah! Roma-roma-ma! Gaga-oh-la-la!(One more for the road, in case you haven’t had enough yet). It’s enough to make anyone want to reach for the closest razor blade and slash open their wrist.
