Only a full moon, on Friday the 13th , walking under a ladder, with a black cat in my path could explain the week’s worth of awkwardness that left me cringing and clutching my pearls . It began with Lady Gaga taking the SNL stage with R. Kelly, as co-stars in the soft-core version of “Do What You Want” live. The twosome gyrated, pumped, and grinded their way into television history in the most uncomfortable way possible. Their simulated sensual contact only reminded me of why R. Kelly has been blacklisted in my mind for the past six years. The creep-o-meter reached an all time high as the R&B outcast did actual push-ups atop of Gaga while she sang and writhed on the floor. A twerk here, and a twerk there, and I began to question Gaga’s choices. Not the raw meat dress. Not the cocoon/anthropod egg-thingy. Not even when she covered herself in hundreds of dead Kermit the Frogs did I take issue with Lady Gaga’s peculiar brand of attention-getting. No, it was the inappropriate touching of her sequined clad body that I was vicariously a part of, by an accused, er…bed wetter that sealed the deal. My eye sockets will never forgive me.
Then, as if Lady Gaga’s antics were not enough of an assault on the senses, Kanye West’s “Bound 2” video hit the Net like a lightening rod of sexually charged images and innuendo. A topless Kim Kardashian shakes what her mamma gave her, riding backwards on a motorcycle, exposing a silhouette of shapes that were not at all that hard to determine. Between the direct and lustful eye contact with the camera and each other, Kim and Kanye make peeping voyeurs out of us innocent bystanders. When trying to avert my eyes from Kimye’s gawky foreplay, it resonates that their on-screen chemistry fizzes anticlimactically –a truly failed experiment. In short, at the precise moment the shades should have been drawn, Kanye keeps it classy and gives us the locker room version. #Awkward