As I said the other day, 2013 is the year of the Beyoncé and as well as the Pepsi deal, the Super Bowl half-time performance, a new album and a Lady Gaga collab, she’s just been named as one of the star performers at next month’s Brit awards AND she’s also bagged top spot as GQ’s Miss Millennium.
And, to celebrate, they called on tampon tea aficionado and fashion photographer Terry Richardson to snap a set of photographs of Beowulf at her Beowulfy best.
The photographs are all very well and good but Bey’s LOLgasmic admission that when she’s ‘scared’ she listens to Make Love To Me, by Rick James, before actually ‘making love’ to hung-like-a-tractor-exhaust-pipe hubby Jay-Z is the best thing about it.
I’ll pause while you clean your teeth after barfing into your own mouth.
She said: ‘If I’m scared, be scared, allow it, release it, move on. I think I need to go listen to ‘Make Love to Me’ and make love to my husband.”
Is this if he demands his birthdays and Christmas only an*l or something or are we supposed to believe she’s scared about something else and having a bounce on the five cans of Lilt laid end-to-end somehow cures it?
Talking of drinks, let’s have a nose in her fridge.
That is a fridge that belongs to somebody who’s never bothered to learn to cook. She needs to ask wannabe best friend Gwyneth Paltrow to pop around and give her some lessons.
But why should she trouble herself with mere mortals’ hobbies like looking up a recipe on the internet and following it?
She’s too busy being preoccupied with her own power which comes from writing a few songs for Destiny’s Child when she was younger: ’I now know that, yes, I am powerful. I’m more powerful than my mind can even digest and understand’ she says without a hint of irony.
Hmmm. I know who told her this- a sycophantic Gwyneth, who hammered on her third glass of Pinot Noir over dinner one night, hoped she might persuade Bey to take part in her next Goop.com newsletter via the power of a good old-fashioned arse kissing.
The video of behind-the-scenes footage is below. I’m hoping that the white creamy substance all over perv photog Richardson as he shoots Bey in her undies is flour and water.