I can't get the glitter out of my chest hair after the Ke$ha concert

• http://clatl.com/atlanta/ImageArchives?by=1223504
• Perry Julien

When I first heard Ke$ha, I hated her. I thought she was nothing more than this generation's Avril Lavigne, which might be the meanest thing I've ever written given how loathsome Avril is. I didn't get the dollar sign. I didn't get the faux attitude. But then more of her singles were released and subsequently stuck in my head, until the day came when I couldn't wait to see her live. Though still heavily produced, Ke$ha doesn't present the slick styling of Gaga or Katy Perry, but instead sports smudged makeup, messy hair and glitter stuck on from last night's party. Her aesthetic of ironic sleaze and serious partying is that of a UCLA art school dropout, and sleazy partying and serious irony are two of my favorite things.

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I got to the Tabernacle fairly early for the Get Sleazy Tour on April 20, and was shocked by the number of high school girls in line dressed like ’80s hookers. I don't know what I was expecting, but it probably speaks more to my taste in guilty pleasures. The security guard put my 21+ wristband on so tight it practically cut off my circulation, no doubt trying to keep the tweens from getting "slizzed." That was a lost cause.

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I first squeezed my way into the hormonal crowd around 8 p.m. It was already tightly packed despite an opening act not yet played. Mean Girl posses were everywhere, and I was next to one pack of tweens in particular. At least I was taller than everyone else for once. Behind us were a late-30s couple who refused to go with the ebb and flow of the audience. Immediately after I got there, one of the high school girls turned around and in her snottiest affectation said, "Um, you're like 50 fucking years old, why are you even fucking here? Go the fuck home." Granted, the older couple was being uncooperative, but where did this indignation come from? Then, the older woman snapped, "You are not classy!" The girl shot back, "Oh, I'm classy. You're not classy." I felt like I was in the "Real Housewives of the Tabernacle." All these little girls had so much rage. I must have forgotten how horrible being in high school is. After I moved to a different area of the venue, two 13-year-old girls were furiously making out with each other — violently jutting their tongues into each other's throats and knocking into others so hard that a security guard nearly kicked them out. What had I gotten myself into?