While looking like Olive Oyl’s so-edgy fashion school sister, aspiring teenage mallrat Katy Perry shocked absolutely no one by admitting to ELLE magazine that the world of pop music is basically a come-to-life soap opera where everyone is given a predetermined character to play. Unfortunately, it’s not an exciting soap opera like Passions or Metropia or Monsignor Martinez, but one of those boring soap operas where everyone just stands there smelling the fart while waiting for the wealthy oil tycoon to die so they can start fighting over who gets his mansion. And in this pop music soap opera (possible name: Backstabbers & Backing Tracks), Katy Perry knows what roles would be played by professional Rebecca Ann Leeman-type Taylor Swift and human period cramp Kanye West:
“You’ve got to name someone the villain, someone the princess, someone the mom-, the dad-type—you know there always have to be characters. As pop figures, we’re all characters. And the media uses that. Who is the sweetheart, who is the villain? You know. Taylor’s the sweetheart. Kanye’s the villain. That’s the narrative.”
Okay, so what does that make Katy Perry? The bad girl? The misunderstood hooker with the heart of gold? The evil gold-digging nurse who fakes her own death and comes back as her long-lost half-sister? The character who won’t stop dating the slimy douchebag? That’s it.
Sadly, Katy didn’t elaborate further on her dramatic long-running soap opera feud with Sweetheart St.TayTay (because she’s saving it for 3rd period gym class) but she did talk about the Susan Lucci of the pop world: BEYONCE!
On prying Sam Smith’s lips off Beyonce’s ass and replacing them with her own:
Oh my God. I’m such a big Beyoncé fan. Beyoncé just put out a video! You’ve got to see this video!” She’s referring to the now viral grainy, black-and-white 11-minute reel featuring a barefaced, teary-eyed Beyoncé, spouting existential verse set to moody music. “I was like, Finallllly. Finally I see you. I don’t see some propaganda version of you. I see you. I relate to who you are.”
On getting a burrito snatched by a zero-fucks-given Adele:
“Adele is so real and couldn’t care less about the trappings of fame. She came to a show at the Hammersmith Apollo in England and stole my after-show burrito. She’s like [heavy British accent], ‘How the fuck did you get a burrito in England?'”
On how being a pop star is, like, so hard you guys:
“It is a hundred times harder a dream than the dream that I dreamt when I was nine…You think you signed up for one thing, but you automatically sign up for a hundred others. And that is why you see people shaving their fucking heads.”
On Sunday night’s Busted Shark Variety Show:
“In my show, I am boss daddy. I am boss mommy. They call me Boss. Everything goes through my eyes; I call all the shots, 100 percent of it. With the NFL, I have to be accountable to several levels of red tape. There are many committees I have to go through for my costumes, the budgets of my show, every interview—everything, I have to report to somebody. So I am no longer the boss; I have to relinquish that control. We love this opportunity, but once you decide you’re gonna do the Super Bowl, you’re gonna have no fucking life for six months. It is the biggest thing. Anyone that’s ever done it has been scared shitless. You stay off the Internet for the five days afterward.”
They call her Boss? Who is working for her, a bunch of 50-year-old dock workers named Sal? “Hey Boss, ya whipped cream titty top is ready, but that giant mechanical lion is bein’ a real sonofabitch. Listen, you mind if I take a break and get myself a couple sandwiches from the truck?“