Forward Thinking: Preparing to get very Perry merry

Katy Perry. Photo / Supplied

Do I want the jaw-dropping, eye-popping, head-turning, body-shocking, oh, ay, oh, oh, oh, ay, oh ... whiz-bang unhinged sugar rush of Katy Perry this weekend?

Yes, I do.

And so I will be joining floods of pre-pubescent fans to watch the American popstar prance about in whatever wild brassiere she has chosen for the occasion and sing the filthy song Peacock in a tutu.

I want to see the her turn Vector Arena into a Teenage Dream Candyland and to count her costumes, said to be more excessive than Priscilla Queen of the Desert.

I especially want to see those playing "sensible adult escort" to the very young fans at this weekend's concert sing along to California Gurls:

(Daisy Dukes, bikinis on top!/Sun-kissed skin/So hot we'll melt your popsicle!/ Oh oh oh ohhhhhhh!)

Don't say you don't know the one. I've seen people singing it on the streets of Vietnam.

See, like that headachy flu thing that's going through Auckland CBD's air-conditioning units at present, Katy Perry's fandom is infectious and can strike even those with the toughest of pop-fighting antibodies.

It took a while to make its way through my veins, but, I'm not going to lie, I just spent the best part of an hour reading her Twitter feed - to get a better sense of this @KatyPerry, unmasked - and am now one of her seven million followers. #ilovekatyperry.

She tells us followers about her burger cravings and asks us to watch out for Kiwi pop sensation Zowie (formerly Bionic Pixie) who has been opening her Australian shows and will open her Auckland shows this weekend.

She posts pictures of her cat who lives in a shark house, and says "go hubby go hubby go hubby" when her equally-hyperactive brand-new spouse Russell Brand's seriously-average films come out.

Unlike some of the more hard-faced or meat-dressed stars of her ilk, Katy has something endearingly goofy about her that makes women say "too right sister" and makes men drool.

I've realised in my research, that Katy and I share many things. The same approximate age, the same affection for karaoke, the same fascination with Russell Brand's arrogance and the same interest in Hinduism. She just pushed the boundaries a little more than I did; she pretends she is still a teenager, performs karaoke -style shows in arenas around the world, and married Russell Brand in a Hindu ceremony. In India even.

That, I believe, is deserving of my respect. She will always be deserving of my curiosity. I mean, how on earth did a young girl raised by Christian pastor parents in sunny California turn into this seemingly sex-crazed, Japanese-cartoon-like, tweenage pin-up?

Perhaps that question answers itself or perhaps it's simply that she kissed a girl and she liked it ... then wore a cupcake bra and liked that, then wore a firework bra and liked that more, then got with Russell Brand and liked that that too. And the world liked her so much that she was asked to be Mr Burns' love interest on The Simpsons, to sing with Elmo on Sesame Street (though her cleavage got in the way of it airing in most parts of the world) and she got to join the judging panel on American Idol.

Who cares that she is not as pretty as Princess Catherine or as talented as Taylor Swift or as outrageous as Lady Gaga. Katy Perry is capable of turning silly, pornographic lyrics into sugar-coated pop songs and delivering them with the enthusiasm of a children's TV presenter. We like it.

And we hope to sing Oh my God, no exaggeration, all this time was worth the waiting with conviction on Saturday and Sunday nights. Even if we do have to adapt her original meaning of the lyrics to suit our own, more prudish purposes.

- TimeOut