Keith Urban
Ah yes, Keith. Pop country's whitest white boy who glues his own pubes to his sultry model-esque cheekbones. While not media-whoring himself out to hype but standing beside his wife for social prestige Keith can be found writing songs about "women" while pushing some sort of bullshit sensitive male paradigm:
"She laid her heart and soul right in your hands and you stole her every dream and you crushed her plans. She never even knew she had a choice and that's what happens when the only voice she hears is telling her she cant. [You] stupid boy"
I'm not buying it. But I will give him credit in that he avoided becoming a Alan Jackson style douche. Or a Brad Paisley style pseudo hippy asshole douche. Or a toe-curling Wigga style pseudo-patronizing Darryl Worley douche. Keith is his own sort of douche. A beardy-weirdie, frightfully Australian, incredibly easily embarrassed and depressingly suburban post-grunge flannel-wearing sort of douche. Which makes him pretty fucking special. I just wish he'd come clean about his sexuality. For example, he's backstage at some gig, drunk on white trash beer. There’s a knock at his door. He opens it. Germaine Greer marches in, pushes him to the floor, gets his cock out, fucks him. And then fucks off. And that’s how I want to see Keith go. Having his brains brutally fucked out by the architect of modern feminism.