Now the smell of a different type of flora—Cannabis sativa—wafts in from the hallway.... Ah, okay, Rihanna’s suite is twenty feet away. “Everyone is high!” Perry declares, giggling. She means everyone else: “The weed—I’m not friends with it.” She is bare-shouldered, bare-legged, barefooted—bare-everythinged, basically, except for the wig cap on her head and the teensy light blue Hello Kitty terry-cloth wrap that cinches above her breasts and ends where butt meets thigh. “I can’t do that stuff. I’d be like in the corner: ‘Are you trying to kill me?!’
a) the Rihanna shade
b) Queen Katy doesn't do drugs
