If you’re my friend on Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat, or in real life, you’re well aware that my birthday was a couple days ago. I kicked things off last Friday with a fancy, intimate dinner with friends and closed things out on Sunday (my actual birthday) with a nice brunch and some quality time with the fam. The entire weekend was the perfect combo of class and ratchetness, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
In the midst of my bday festivities, Queen Bey somehow managed to flawlessly frolic her way into the equation — all the while slaying in a canary yellow Roberto Cavalli dress and smashing cars with Hot Sauce, which we now know is the name of her handy-dandy baseball bat (just when she had y’all thinking carrying around Frank’s Red Hot in your pocketbooks was cool.)
Now let me explain something real quick. I am in no way, shape or form a member of the Beyhive, Beygency, Bey-613, or whatever the heck they call y’all crazy folk who will literally cut someone with a dull spoon for spelling Beyoncé’s name without the lil accent mark at the end. Don’t get me wrong, I got mad respect for Bey. But the large majority of her fans are just too doggone crazy for me, so I simply admire her from afar. But after watching/listening to this new “Lemonade” album, I MIGHT have to go and sit in on a local Beyhive chapter meeting. Might. [Read more…]