SHE-PAIN

Thoughts I am having about this six-second teaser for Beyoncé’s new secret project:

-I fucking KNEW she would release something on April 4. She is obsessed with numerology and the number 4 so tomorrow’s date is too significant for her to ignore.

-People who are obsessed with numerology are kind of stupid. 

-But to be fair, a lot of significant dates in her life involve the number 4. Her own birthday (9/4), Jay-Z’s birthday (12/4), her wedding date (4/4), and Blue Ivy’s birthday (1/7, which numerology style adds up to 8, which divided by 2 is 4. Don’t look at me like that, this is the kind of thing people who like numerology use as justification for their weird non-science). 

-I knew all of those dates from memory.

-I should really use the space in my brain occupied by Beyoncé trivia for something more useful, like learning Spanish.

-Someone should do a count of how many people on the internet call this a “tribal beat” in the next five hours. 

-Her hair is laid like amber waves of grain.

-I feel really bad for all of the assholes releasing albums this year after hers comes out, because no one is going to listen to them and they are going to sound objectively terrible in King B’s wake.

-Even you, Justin Timberlake, with your alleged The 20/20 Experience Part Two

-Numerology seems to be working for her, though. Maybe I should get into it.

A Pinch of Hov, A Whole Glass of Bey

Recently Mittens “Mitt” Romney told a bunch of campaign donors that it would be easier for him to win the presidency if he had been born to Latino parents. I’m sure that’s true. Just ask—I Googled “Latino presidential candidate” and came up with no one, so I don’t even know who you could ask. Jennifer Lopez? 

Anyway, the whole thing got me thinking about how my life might have been easier if I had different parents than the boring old white semi-Protestants who birthed me. 

Things that would be easier for me if I had been born to Jay-Z and Beyoncé:

  • Learning the choreography for all of Beyoncé’s videos (you don’t know how difficult the scissor leg really is until you’ve tried it at home)
  • Learning to successfully rap along with all of Jay-Z’s biggest hits
  • Winning a role in a middling-to-solid film adaptation of a 1980s musical
  • Obtaining limited edition Chanel nail polishes prior to their official release dates
  • Becoming BFFs for life with Rihanna
  • Becoming an intern for Kanye
  • Vacationing on a luxury yacht
  • Appearing on a track before my 1st birthday
  • Receiving a Murciélago for my 16th birthday
  • Receiving an Audemars for my 21st birthday
  • Putting a bumper sticker on my Maybach
  • Hanging out with Barack Obama
  • Having Solange for an aunt
  • Owning a minority percentage of a terrible basketball team
  • Owning Thierry Mugler clothes
  • Looking good in Thierry Mugler clothes
  • Finding out what the black strap is
  • Running for president
Drawing of zombie policeman and his zombie police dog, done by a sixth grader. This is going on the fridge immediately. 
Also, doesn’t the zombie dog remind you of the zombie horse from the Game of Thrones finale, in the best way? God I hope this 11-year-old isn’t allowed to watch Game of Thrones. 

Drawing of zombie policeman and his zombie police dog, done by a sixth grader. This is going on the fridge immediately. 

Also, doesn’t the zombie dog remind you of the zombie horse from the Game of Thrones finale, in the best way? God I hope this 11-year-old isn’t allowed to watch Game of Thrones

ALL OF THE WAYS ELLIS FROM SMASH COULD DIE

Upon hearing the news that Jaime Cepero, aka Ellis the inexplicably straight assistant from hell who unfortunately also looks exactly like my archnemesis Bruno Mars, would not be returning to Smash next season as a series regular, I squealed in delight and immediately began imagining gruesome, horrific ways for him to meet his end. This was before I had seen the last two episodes of the show, because hey, DVR, so at the time I was not aware that in the finale he admitted to Anjelica Huston* that he poisoned Uma Thurman with a peanut smoothie, and thus got fired and ended his own career as The Worst Person on Network TV. But Entertainment Weekly says that Ellis could return for “an episode or two to wrap up his storyline,” which in my opinion is still plenty of time for the writers to kill him off in a spectacular, bloody, hyper-violent way. I offer these ideas to you freely, NBC, and in return only ask that you please also kill off Debra Messing’s doughy son.

-Ellis, on his way back from purchasing more smoothie sabotage materials and distracted by the winky face emoticon text he has just received from Megan Hilty, falls into one of those bodega cellar doors left open on the sidewalk and is gnawed to death by an infestation of rats (led by one intrepid bodega cat) before he can escape.

-Ellis, who for some reason has a girlfriend even though he is also The Gayest Person on Network TV, decides to take said biddy on a romantic date to the top of the Empire State Building in a re-creation of the iconic scene from An Affair to Remember/Gossip Girl. This is a sure sign to her that he is a card-carrying homosexual, so she promptly pushes him off the observation deck in revenge, then starts hitting on that black dancer who dates the composer because this bitch really has the worst gaydar of all time.

 -Ellis, having long suppressed his true feelings for humans with penises, finally gives in to his desires and spends a Tuesday evening trolling gay bars in the Village, but because he is so unfamiliar with the scene finds himself in a leather bar, where a horde of angry leather daddies pummels him to death until he is nothing but a seething pile of toothy grins, baby dreadlocks, and H&M sweater vests.

-Ellis, for no apparent reason, hangs himself with one of Debra Messing’s scarves, right in the middle of the studio, causing everyone else to realize that Bombshell is irrevocably cursed and inducing a mass suicide by the cast and crew, effectively ending the atrocity that is Smash for all time.

Guys, you have no idea how much I love Smash

*Please note that I refuse to call anyone on Smash by their characters’ names because I don’t actually know any of the characters’ names besides Ellis.

My love for Madge runs deep. But not deep enough to like MDNA.

My love for Madge runs deep. But not deep enough to like MDNA.

Whitneyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy