Rihanna.
What's not to love about her. Homegirl is beautiful, she's hot, bitch is fierce, bitch could outsideye Rupual, but my dear friends, this is not America's Next Top Model, this is the music industry.
Rihanna was signed by a man who wanted to create a beautiful, sexy, foreign far less talented teen version of his fiance', and he succeeded, now Rihanna is a pop star, shitting on all her contemporaries with her infectious Britney reject singles, her fire accent, her fire engine no.5 lipstick and a hair style that Kelis was rocking since before Nicole Scherzinger knew how to say "así que cuando mi álbum es realmente van a salir?".
Rihanna proves that it takes more than looks to be succesful, if beauty was the key to mainstream success then Janet wouldn't eating corndogs out of Jermaine's asshole and Ashanti wouldn't be doing the late shift down at ChickenSkinShack. Rihanna proves that you need to have a team of hot writers, good production, sex appeal looks and phrases like "I had to fyteee for dat song before de writer let me have it."
But Rihanna put me to shame in February. I could no longer go on down to the UntalentedPopArtistAppreciationCentre with my head help up high because Rihanna took a rolling in da river beat down and didn't do shit.
I thought you was a bad girl RiRi.
I thought you was from Barbaydose.
To think that Rihanna let that skinny ass, scrawny motherfucker knock her about and then say nothing about really pissed me off because I knew that she could have made a fortune out of selling her story to Vogue and then making an appearance on Dr.Phil armed with a box of Kleenex's (who would have paid Rihanna for the endorsement), but Rihanna did nothing. So being the pathetic, pop culture Rihanna lover that I am (note that I can love Rihanna because there is a part of me that is stupid, i dedicate my intelligent part to Beyonce, penises and Madonna (sometimes) ) I decided to create a schedule for Rihanna which she would have used if she had decided to speak out against the dirty skinny bastard.
Schedule for Ms.Rihanna Fenty
4.00am- Wake up next to Mellisa in swanky New York hotel to find that her right hand is in between your vagizzle. You say nothing and get into the shower.
4.01am- Get out of the shower and put on Samsung cell phone and see that you have 14 missed calls from TMZ wanting to know how much you'd like for the photo you sent to them of your battered and bruised ace. You then see you have a text from Neyo wanting to know if he can borrow your CoverGirl "Shimmer Before You Suck" lipgloss because he's meeting Bow Wow later on that night. You don't reply.
5.00am- Call Vogue to confirm 11 page interview and photoshoot and then call members of the press to ensure that they catch you leaving hotel.
6.00am- Whilst in car on the way to Vogue you receive a heartfelt video message from Tina Knowles inviting you to spend a couple of days with her and Juelz in order to help you get over getting beat the fuck up, but since you're aware that Juelz told members of the press that he wished that it was him that fucked you up, you decline the invitation and get to Vogue.
6.05am- Leave Vogue and make your way to Jay Z's apartement to find that he is unable to speak or hear you due to the fact that Sasha put him in a pussy coma before she left to ruin the careers of more d-list Vanity 6 tribute acts. Because Jay Z's speech is inaudible you cannot hear him telling you that Solange will be stopping by soon and if she catches you there, she'll show you a clip of a movie that she directed: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fo-45pQpELY&feature=related
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