i imagine that Beyoncé is off somewhere on a yacht, sipping on an olivia pope sized glass of wine, watching the entire world explode over her new album dropping out of literally the thinnest of air and cackling to herself with sheer joy. like, not only did she give you 14 new songs, but she gave you a music video for every damn one. this wasn’t just a casual troll, this was a calculated strike of nuclear proportions and she is leaving no survivors.
i pledge allegiance
to the band
of mr. shneebly
and will not fight him for creative control
and will defer to him on all issues related to the musical direction of the band
that awkward moment between birth and death