Her name is Rihanna, she’s pretty much the biggest thing in music, I mean unless you count Beyonce’s fat ass, but that’s a different kind of big that comes from eating too much Popeye’s chicken, the same Popeye’s chicken that lead to Beyonce’s husband running off to the islands to find new pussy that doesn’t looks and smell like cottage cheese and instead he molded this superstar.
So I guess I should be thanking Popeye’s chicken for making Rihanna happen and for making Beyonce fall from her throne because she broke the fucking thing at a family function. I usually try my best to not thank fast food companies, since they are the devil and ruined my wife’s ass and in turn my sex life, but I guess Rihanna and my wife’s premature impending death proves that they do some good, so don’t believe all the negative publicity they get….and look at Rihanna’s cleavage.
