I was just perched on the toilet, trying my upmost to deliver a nice poop, when from from the living room a stupid wailing bitch warbles, "I got your slippers, your dinner, your dessert, and so much more. Anything you want - just let me cater to you".
What. The. Hell.
Fat Beyonce and friends have seemingly chucked away their notions of pseudo-feminism in the forms of songs like Independent Woman
, and instead have decided that man-worshipping, women-hating trash
is the next fashionable bandwagan they are going to jump on.
The lyrics for 'Cater 2 U
make me feel physically sick. There are simply no words to describe.
Just know this, Beyonce friggin' Knowles : I secretly hope one of your animal fur
scarves comes back to life and strangles you in your sleep. Bitch.
Ms. Violet, 5:22 PM