Friday May 27 2011 Russell Brand and Katy Perry were seen leaving the Arclight Theatre where the couple watched The Hangover Part 2. Security chased and threatened paparazzi as Russell and Katy left through the parking lot structure.
Showing posts with label Katy Perry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Katy Perry. Show all posts
Katy Perry Tattoos Designs



Katy has a tattoo on her left wrist. Her tattoo is a text tattoo, that simply says Jesus in black ink. No word on why Katy decided to get this tattoo. But there you have it she does have one. There have also been some rumors that she has a lip tattoo on her back somewhere. However, Katy does not rule out the possibility of getting another tattoo. It seems that the hot and cold singer, has been hot and cold about getting a tattoo of Freddie Mercury on her back. Katy has once stated that she looks up the former front-man of Queen and completely idolizes him. She shared that she once almost got a huge tattoo of Freddie's face on her back, but says she decided against at the last minute. She says she is glad she didn't do it but on the flip side she still has an urge to get this tattoo on her back. So it is pretty safe to say that this pin up style singer will more than likely add to her tattoo collection one day.
Katy Perry live at the Hammersmith Apollo!
'Saturday Night Live': Katy Perry spoofs 'Sesame Street' Elmo duet on 'SNL' season premiere


Bouncing onto the set of "Bronx Beat," with Amy Poehler and Maya Rudolph, Perry played a 16-year-old public library volunteer named Maureen DiChico, who appears to have developed since she last saw the hosts.
The “Peacock” singer wore a tight red Elmo shirt with her breasts spilling out of a slit down the middle of the Muppet’s forehead. She completed the outfit with a plaid skirt, pig tails and black horn rims.
"Honey, you've exploded - kaboom! Those are some bazooms," Rudolph exclaimed."Look at Elmo's head, it's all stretched out," Poehler added.
The jokes didn't get much more sophisticated than that, with Poehler resorting to a quip that Perry's fiancé, Russell Brand, made earlier this week on Twitter.

"Double D? More like 3-D!" Rudolph concluded.
But it was clear who the NBC cast supported in "cleavage-gate.” After Maureen revealed that the library told her to wear looser clothing to read to children, Poehler's and Rudolph's characters came to her defense.
"Who cares if kids are looking at boobs - boobs feed babies, alright?" Rudolph said. "I see 'CSI' last night and there’s a dead guy with worm in his eye - and we can't watch the top of boobs? So dumb, America."
Perry later performed "California Gurls" in a sparkling pink mini-dress and "Teenage Dream" in an equally sparkly take on a high school uniform.
But PBS was not the only butt of NBC's jokes on Saturday Night - Fox was also a target.
On "Weekend Update," Poehler took a jab at the new "Idol" judges - the show's attempt to reinvigorate its waning ratings - whose names she announced before adding "also known as coffin nails one, two and three."
Though Gov. Paterson was the most buzz-worthy guest, "Social Network" star Justin Timberlake also showed up to mock his acting career.
"When're u going to make more music?" he was asked on the segment spoofing "Inside the Actor's Studio."
"I'm trying to take this seriously, that’s it!!!" Timberlake yelled before storming off set.
Next week on "Saturday Night Live," musical guest Kanye West gives Timberlake and Perry a run for their money.
More News
Singer Katy Perry and comic actor Russell Brand are enjoying a vacation in this city of the Taj Mahal.
The pop star has posted a photo of herself and Brand cuddling in front of the famous Mughla monument on her Twitter.com page, joking: “He built this for me”.
A few days back it was reported that the couple is engaged, but they are yet to confirm the news, said contactmusic.com.

Another version of Katy Perry's "Teenage Dream"
Kety Perry is the most famous Singer of USA. “Teenage Dream,” is her second major label album and first as a certified superstar, “Love, the new & improved Katy Hudson-Perry-Brand.” If you didn’t know about her fiancé, Russell B., or the actress with her given name who beat her to fame, you might think the singer was referring to herself as a salable item. Something, perhaps, like Maybelline mascara in its familiar pink and green tube — a commodity so definitive in its category that it starts to seem original.

Perry likely wouldn’t mind being compared to a feminine product. “I love an obvious innuendo,” she once told an interviewer. She also loves the God-given gift of her lovely breasts and the bad-girl business of rock and roll, which she approaches the way the ad men on “Mad Men” approach cigarettes and cold cream. How to capture its spirit and sell it? How to make it seem new, yet unthreatening to an average boy or girl? Bury the dark side, scrub the dirty parts with Ivory and insist, as Don Draper would, that it’s something your audience has never before encountered. That’s madcap Katy, both slap-your-face fresh and unapologetically calculated, a brutally effective advertisement for a self.

More than her Christian background or the chick-lit limits to her take on sexual liberation, what makes Perry a controversial artist is her essential hollowness. “Do you ever feel like a plastic bag drifting through the wind, wanting to start again?” she sings in the power ballad “Firework.” Perry felt like that bag, but then realized what a bag was for: to be filled up with shiny, purchasable things.
Though her lyrics generally recount familiar scenarios on the road to romantic fulfillment, Perry’s real subject is consumerism. From the bouncy-house Scandinavian beats provided her by super-producers Max Martin, Stargate and her mentor Dr. Luke to the childlike enthusiasm with which she embraces lyrical clichés to the vocal style that combines sports arena chants with karaoke croons to her Halloween store look, Perry is the living embodiment of what it means to be bought and sold.
Her songs are like ads, with hooks that hit like paintballs and choruses that exhort like slogans; she delivers them with the gusto of a pitchwoman. On “Teenage Dream,” the songs alternate between weekend-bender celebrations of hedonism and self-help-style affirmations encouraging listeners to get an emotional makeover. Either way, acquisition is the goal: of a great love, a happy hangover, a perfect pair of Daisy Dukes.
To judge Perry as inauthentic or unoriginal would be wrong; as with any great ad campaign, uncanny familiarity is her greatest achievement. She can sing a line like “you make me feel like I’m losing my virginity,” and never once hint that she might be thinking of Madonna. She can feign a rocker’s stance on the Alanis-inspired “Circle the Drain” or a hip-hop diva’s stutter on the Rihanna-influenced “E.T.,” and convince you that it fits her perfectly. No tailoring required! Whatever person exists beneath Perry’s wigs and costumes is irrelevant to her music. Her process of self-creation is the purpose and sum of her art.
It’s enough to millions of listeners — especially young women — because this kind of constructed self has been a feminine reality since long before Peggy Olson started hawking Pond’s cold cream. “Put your hands on me in my skintight jeans,” Perry murmurs to a paramour in the title track, but it’s the clothing that matters more than the chance to get naked.

Perry likely wouldn’t mind being compared to a feminine product. “I love an obvious innuendo,” she once told an interviewer. She also loves the God-given gift of her lovely breasts and the bad-girl business of rock and roll, which she approaches the way the ad men on “Mad Men” approach cigarettes and cold cream. How to capture its spirit and sell it? How to make it seem new, yet unthreatening to an average boy or girl? Bury the dark side, scrub the dirty parts with Ivory and insist, as Don Draper would, that it’s something your audience has never before encountered. That’s madcap Katy, both slap-your-face fresh and unapologetically calculated, a brutally effective advertisement for a self.


Though her lyrics generally recount familiar scenarios on the road to romantic fulfillment, Perry’s real subject is consumerism. From the bouncy-house Scandinavian beats provided her by super-producers Max Martin, Stargate and her mentor Dr. Luke to the childlike enthusiasm with which she embraces lyrical clichés to the vocal style that combines sports arena chants with karaoke croons to her Halloween store look, Perry is the living embodiment of what it means to be bought and sold.
Her songs are like ads, with hooks that hit like paintballs and choruses that exhort like slogans; she delivers them with the gusto of a pitchwoman. On “Teenage Dream,” the songs alternate between weekend-bender celebrations of hedonism and self-help-style affirmations encouraging listeners to get an emotional makeover. Either way, acquisition is the goal: of a great love, a happy hangover, a perfect pair of Daisy Dukes.
To judge Perry as inauthentic or unoriginal would be wrong; as with any great ad campaign, uncanny familiarity is her greatest achievement. She can sing a line like “you make me feel like I’m losing my virginity,” and never once hint that she might be thinking of Madonna. She can feign a rocker’s stance on the Alanis-inspired “Circle the Drain” or a hip-hop diva’s stutter on the Rihanna-influenced “E.T.,” and convince you that it fits her perfectly. No tailoring required! Whatever person exists beneath Perry’s wigs and costumes is irrelevant to her music. Her process of self-creation is the purpose and sum of her art.
It’s enough to millions of listeners — especially young women — because this kind of constructed self has been a feminine reality since long before Peggy Olson started hawking Pond’s cold cream. “Put your hands on me in my skintight jeans,” Perry murmurs to a paramour in the title track, but it’s the clothing that matters more than the chance to get naked.
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