Don't You Want to Know How Tall (or Small) is the little Vixen Katy Perry?
Katy Perry, Katy Perry. Seems like all I ever hear these days is Katy Perry, if not Beyonce or Rhianna or a host of other celebrities who have captured the public zeitgeist and just won't let go of it. Katy Perry is often at the top of the list of 'who is' and 'how tall' and 'where does she go when she wants to talk to a friendly chicken who will listen to her problems?' and 'why does she like men who can make their own egg-nog?' and 'when is she coming to Scranton, New Jersey and will she sign my leg-cast that I got when I broke my shin-bone from slipping off the roof of my grandmother's house when I was trying to assure her there were no aliens up there spying on her?' and on and on...and on.
So the question of today is 'so how tall is Katy Perry?' a question which, in my never-ending effort to satisfy my celebrity-gossip-thirsty readers I endeavoured to solve without the aid of mirrors or special effects of any kind.
Starstruck by a Grammy Queen
I have been following the music of and the singer Katy Perry since she was first brought to my attention with singles that hit America and the UK like an October storm. From her first release of her first studio recording a significant interest was generated as her records went platinum and she sold like one of her predecessors Britney, (of the Spears variety) the big difference being Perry has dark hair and Britney is a blond.
Not the digitalized virtual girl...
Arming myself with my measuring tape, I set-off to find the answer to this age-old question, asked by scholars and meat-packers for ages upon ages and my first thought was this: 'where do I find this Katy Perry creature so I canst thus measure her and record my findings for the edification of fans everywhere?'
My first thought was to go back to sleep, but I tossed that thought into my mental drawer labelled 'Save for Later Thoughts' and fired-up my Google search to see where this vixen of vocalist could be found.
"To find Katy Perry visit her website."
Well that was hardly satisfactory. I wanted to visit the real thing, the corpus delicious, if you will, not the digitalized virtual girl. That website would only give me the answer to: 'how tall is Katy Perry' that everyone else already knew. I wanted to know how tall she really is, in her stocking feet, without standing on tippy-toes, or wearing platform shoes or walking on stilts.
So I had to try and find the celebrity herself. That was the only way.
Jumping on a plane I found myself in Beverly Hills where the likes of such people as Paris Hilton, Ashton Kutcher and Judge Judy hangout. As luck would have it, Katy herself was shopping at the Beverly Hills dollar-store, which I happened to visit to find myself a pair of insoles for my sandals. Perry was in the card-isle looking for a cheap card to send to her ex-boyfriend as the best way she could come up with to give him a 'smack-down'.
I approached her post-haste and proceeded to unravel my pre-rehearsed spiel:
"Miss Perry. You don't know me, (or you may actually if you read Hubpages and enjoy laughing) but I just love your songs and do you mind if I measure you?"
At which point, before she had time to think, or scream for security, I whipped out my measuring tape and sliding one end under her flip-flop I lay the tape up her body to her head and read-off the result.
"Excuse me while I put on my reading glasses?" I asked. "Can you hold this end of the tape on your head for me?" at which point the femme-in-a-fury let out an ear-peircing shriek that I recognized as 3 octaves above middle-C. Realizing I was in imment danger of being the first Canadian to be arrested for what I was doing to whom I was doing it to, I made an exit reminiscent of Snaggle-Puss (i.e.'stage-right') and disappeared into the crowd that had gathered as if on cue as extras in a Hollywood epic.