Beyoncé’s new album/short film/lyrical divorce papers dropped this weekend and I am not ok. As the old saying goes, when life gives you lemons, make an album about your potentially cheating scumbag of a husband and drop it on a site that’s the musical equivalent of Gretchen Wieners. Stop trying to make Tidal happen, it’s not going to happen. Some thoughts:
- @Jay Z: You might wish to reconsider your 99 problems philosophy.
- I think I would like “ashes to ashes, dust to side chicks” written on my tombstone. Right underneath “this was a homicide”.
- WHO IS BECKY WITH THE GOOD HAIR
- This deserves an Oscar. I haven’t seen cinematography this good since Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone when Voldemort appeared on professor Quirrell’s head and 8-year-old me was like, oh shit.
- Country? Unexpected, but not entirely unwelcome. Like finding a surprise piece of bacon in your guacamole.
- I’m scared but excited and also sad yet confused. And now I’m also thirsty and craving lemonade.
- Jay Z is a heartless scalawag who deserves to be promptly defenestrated for cheating on Beyoncé.
- Jay Z is a kind, loving father and attentive husband and I would like to be adopted into their family at their earliest convenience.
- Maybe if I’m really, really good for the next 60 years I can come back in my next life as Beyoncé’s left shoe.