In light of all the haters, I decided to start a Rihanna Super Bowl challenge. Meaning? Meaning you tell us what you’d do knocked up to perform. Cause Imma tell you right now, a bitch is sitting down on the grass, the entire performance. I’m not levitating above shit. Furthermore, I’m finna eat mid performance. A tuna melt with french fries and I might nap. Afterward I’d be carried out on scantily clad men, holding me up on those things they used to transport royalty. Idgaf, y’all not finna work me on swollen feet with, swollen tits and a swollen belly.
Based on my PMS hormones, I’m 1000 percent sure I’d cry at some point, for absolutely no reason whatsoever. If anyone wants to get slick, I’d serve them an IOU an ass whooping. The recipient at that point can select a time, date and location for a postpartum fight. This is why being a performer isn’t for everybody.
Katy Perry is the worst to ever do a halftime, ever.
Side note, shout out to all the parents who work 40 hours a week. Literally they barely have time to breathe, or do anything for themselves. I don’t have a kid and I’m exhausted. We definitely have to do better as a society, especially for mothers. How would you perform pregnant? Via: IBadGalRiiri