We start out at looking at the sign for some run-down diner where botulism is probably on the menu, then we cut to Kesha sashaying in the back door of the questionable establishment. She’s wearing pigtails and Daisy-Duke shorts, so we know she’s up to no good. (She’s also going to town on a lollipop in a manner that suggests she could suck the chrome off a trailer hitch, but this should surprise absolutely no one.) The swinging door into the restaurant proper bangs open, and a greasy man with bad facial hair hollers “You’re late again!”
What, is he her gynecologist?
Kesha doesn’t care about things being late, so she pushes her way past him, mercilessly destroying the lollipop with her tongue, then she bends provocatively over the counter to fiddle with something. Greasy Man walks behind her and slaps the proffered fanny as he heads toward the rest of his miserable life, and Kesha has the nerve to make an unappreciative face about the contact. (Honey, don’t put it in the window if you don’t plan to sell it, sayin.)
Then a customer, one of those old geezers that are dissatisfied with everything, starts bellowing about how hard it is to get some coffee around here. We really don’t care, especially since he has hair that makes him look like Marlon Brando in Last Tango in Paris when he did sexual things with butter and we probably shouldn’t be friends with him. But geezer’s ranting pushes Kesha over some kind of tipping point (like the groping didn’t?) and she plops her lolly into Marlon’s coffee cup and announces “I quit”.
This causes some woman that we haven’t seen before to turn and look at Kesha in horror. (She should probably be giving that same look to the stylist who did her hair and makeup.) Greasy Man babbles about the technicalities of not being able to quit when you’ve been fired, but Kesha continues not to care as she and her pigtails march out the front door. Once outside, Kesha realizes that she doesn’t have any other goals in life now that she’s quit, so she sits on a convenient bench to wait for Luke and Bo Duke to drive up and whisk her away.
This doesn’t happen. Instead, there’s an odd thunderclap in the sky, and a strange green vehicle barrels up the street and stops in front of her. There are cat ears on top of this odd van, and this is all the incentive that Kesha needs to run hop in the car, despite the fact that the door unleashes a bolt of electricity as she clamors inside. (In my own life, I tend to avoid vehicles that bite back, but I’m not a recording artist and I’ve had different life experiences.)
As Kesha gets settled in the passenger seat, we realize two things: One, “Dream Maker” is emblazoned on the side of the van (another sign that you shouldn’t actually get in to the van) and two, the vehicle is being driven by a giant cat. To up the weirdness factor, the cat then picks up an 8-track tape with a kitty on the cover and shoves it into the player. This starts the actual song, and I’m reminded that we’re watching a music video and not an intervention on an episode of “Celebrities Who Indulge In Excess and Let Cameras Roll While They’re Doing So”.
Suddenly, Kesha’s outfit has been magically changed to something along the lines of a hippie chick from the late 60’s, complete with headband. Kesha loves her new threads, so she kisses the giant pussy in appreciation while colorful animation plays outside the front window of the car, trippy rainbows and such that indicate someone has consulted with a down-low pharmacist. Then the van peels out and we are treated to the sight of a giant cat tail sticking out between the exhaust pipes.
Quick shot of Kesha and her new outfit doing something on a bed, then we have more giant stuffed animals acting all ghetto and shifty in what might be a park. Before we can ask any questions about that, Kesha starts singing the lyrics from her new address on the bed. Then she hops up from said bed so we can see that her new costume is even more startling than we first imagined (does Dorothy know that her ruby slippers have been stolen?), and her new abode looks like something Ike Turner would rent in 1972.
Oh look, at least the new pad has a nice heart-shaped bathtub, which Kesha promptly jumps into so that she can make love to herself and the bubbles. The wetness kicks off a montage of Kesha flopping around on the bed, the stuffed animals running wild and acting all street, Kesha doing some choreography that took 3 seconds to map out, and something about an abundance of fringe.
Then the stuffed animals arrive at Kesha’s new digs, and we have some reciprocal fondling, as it appears that Kesha just loves it when furry creatures want to party. (You probably shouldn’t let your children watch this part, or they may lay awake at night, looking over at their own pile of stuffed animals in fear.) Kesha and all the animals dance the night away, except during the bits when Kesha pauses to show us that she’s wearing more jewelry on one of her hands than the population of Newark.
The shindig goes on for a while, with more of the same sexualizing of children’s toys, until Kesha and her personal zoo hop in the van and head to a cheap-ass grocery store in the bad part of town. (Not that we ever left it.) They head inside, fur and all, which unnerves the guy manning the place, a dude who looks like one of those hateful Phys Ed coaches from back in the day who would make you play dodge-ball just so you could get your ass kicked and feel demoralized.
But instead of calling for backup, the Coach Cashier just watches as Kesha and her Saturday Morning Cartoon gang run through the store and tear the hell out of things. They trash this and break that and apparently have random sex in the chip aisle, which we don’t really need to discuss further or I might go blind. There’s even a bit where Kesha straddles a giant toothbrush, and while I appreciate the fact that Kesha realizes her squeeze box could use a good scrubbing, we don’t really need to see that.
We wrap this segment up with Kesha performing some type of voodoo that turns the Coach into a kitty, which she then picks up and fondles in an intimate manner while her boyz and girlz continue destroying the rest of the store. Then they all do a victory dance celebrating their ability to not contribute to society in any way.
Cut to Kesha somewhere else, wearing a helmet and riding a fancy motorcycle (with the “BMW” logo prominently displayed, because you really aren’t a pop star until you advertise products in your videos). Whilst riding the throbbing machine, Kesha sings some more and fondles herself and warbles about “I just wanna live right now” and appears to have multiple orgasms, everything but actually pay attention to where she’s driving and not injure the people who are innocently heading to the store that she just trashed and all the munchies have been ruined.
Eventually, Kesha rejoins her Playtoy Posse and they make their way to the skanky restaurant where Kesha was formerly employed. (Is she unhappy about not getting to finish that lollipop?) Once there, some of the animals do gymnastics routines while Kesha perches on the counter and actually hits an amazingly good high note in the song.
This sound kicks off the final montage of the video, with more of Kesha making a man out of the mattress in her Ike Turner dwelling, more of Kesha riding the motorbike that apparently comes with an especially satisfying stick shift, more of the (still creepy) stuffed animals partying like there was vodka in their distemper shots, more of the startling blond hair that may or may not be Kesha’s own, and more of Kesha wearing so much jewelry that I’m really not sure how she can lift her hand and signal the waiter that she needs another Wild Kingdom Martini.
We end with Kesha taking a playful bite out of the shag-rug-enhanced side of the hot tub in her Love Shack, and then smiling and giggling about what she’s accomplished. I think that explains it all right there…
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