“Mommy, Where Do Pop Songs Come From?” A Helpful Guide, by Chevonne, PfD (Doctor of Pop F**kery)

Umm…well.  Ahem, this is a tough one.  I was going to wait until you’re older, but hell, I was head-banging to “Electric Youth” in a rainbow tinsel wig before I knew how to spell my own name.  And…well, I hate to break it to you, but that hairbrush-singing you’ve been doing late at night into the mirror?  You keep that up and you’ll go blind.

So.  When a pop star loves herself very very very much, she wants to share that love with the world.  She wants to joyfully dole out hunks of her soul like a bottomless Snak-Pak of crunchy, salty, grease-coma-inducing sexuality.  But before she can create that bundle of joy, she needs to make sure she is prepared.

The first thing she needs to remember when creating a pop song is to take it out and court it like a real gentlewoman.  She is encouraged to practice her “accidental” crotch-shot poses.  Pee into a bowl of chips.  Fall splayed out on her ass often, incorporate the nearest wandering farm animal or street vendor into any public shenanigans, find a kiddie pool and fill it with sparkling energy-drink, slur sweet nothings into the nearest boy’s ear…but make sure he has at least one girlfriend!

The key is to toe the line between tacky/desperate and awesomely slutty.  Go out most nights a week and “try” for a winner, an epic shitshow so colossal that it practically writes itself…persistence like that will guarantee her a pop-song fertility rate of at least 97%!

After she’s lived a moment so fiendishly excessive that even thinking about it causes motorcycles to explode and naked women to pop out of cakes, she should go home and begin the writing process.  While pregnant with a pop song, stick to the following diet:

• Mix food groups:  Marshmallows with sprinkles.  Chicken fingers dipped in chocolate.  Whole sticks of butter drizzled with hot sauce.  Watermelon vodka.
• Nothing “organic” – pop songs are inherently processed.  Don’t take away from the glossy artifice by adding ingredients grown from Nature.
• Consume plenty of polyester, glitter, coconut-scented self-tanner, male ab sweat, and/or exhaust fumes from a Lamborghini.
• Whenever possible, eat all meals out of a 7-inch stiletto.

Now, I’m sure you’re wondering, “What about the music, the lyrics?  The definitive sound?  The vocal tone?” Though you are the baby mama of this gurgling little sound byte, there are just some aspects you have to leave up to fate.  Get in that studio, breathe in the essence of your sexy excess and exhale a sparkling turd of pure cash-money-making pop magic.

…Still lost?  Well, okay.  Here are a few helpful hints:

• Two words: robot voice.  Anything you can do to prove to the world you’re half automaton is a step in the right direction.  Some examples include stuttering, Auto Tuning beyond recognition, plugging your electrical cord into a celebrity DJ’s MacBook.
• “Me” is always pronounced “may.” “Baby” can be pronounced in any of the following variations:  “bay. bay.” “BAY-buh!” “behbeh.” Anything but the correct pronunciation.  That would be tres unrefined.
• Got writer’s block?  Try the word “bitch.” “Shaw-TAY” also works.
• Shameless objectification is the highest form of flattery.
• So is tactless ripping and sampling of previously existing pop songs – I mean, if it ain’t broke, right?  It’s kind of like, uh, bringing your really hot cousin to the prom.  ::wipes sweat off brow::

So you’re ready.  You’ve got your song, your couture ensemble has been lovingly spray-painted on, your hair and makeup has been sex-messed to perfection.  Now go call up your exes and get your hands on that “secret tape,” pierce a creative swatch of your bod, and snag yourself a shady industry lovetoy!  Pop stardom awaits you!!!

(And if you want to see Mommy’s very own pride and joy, check www.youtube.com/listen2chevonne and let it all pop out to “Catcall.”  You can also cyberstalk me on Twitter @listen2chevonne or read my blog at www.listentochevonne.com!)