You know, I’ve never understood the allure of Prince.

Sure, his music is pretty funktabulous, and that Purple Rain movie was by far one of the most amazing, melodramatic films I’ve ever seen, but Prince the guy?

Not so much.

He’s a tiny little man who wears clothes even I can’t fit into, and seems so feminine I was convinced he was a transsexual for most of my young life (not that I actually knew what a transsexual was at the time…I just thought he was a woman who wore a weird mustache).

If you can call a man a Diva, he’s not exactly the man for me.

And the former symbol is most definitely a Diva, as illustrated by the list of demands he had for his swanky London penthouse.

The Daily Star is reporting Mr. Prince demanded his room at the Dorchester Hotel be swaddled completely in black, with everything from the mirrors to the furniture to the frames of pictures of himself also coated in inky darkness. He wanted black candles too, and, oh yeah, an oxygen bar manned by “three foxy ladies”. Read More »

At first I was like, Alright, Beyonce! Love yourself! Sing about how you’re independent and don’t need a man and pay all your own bills. Work those gold sparkly outfits! Give those interviewers a piece of your mind! Be strong! Yeah!

But now, I’m not so sure.

Like this blog on EW.com, I’m strangely over Beyonce, and I don’t really know why. Maybe it’s because she seems to have everything, and it’s hard for me—a poor grad student with no boyfriend and no movie offers and definitely no gold sequined dresses—to completely connect with her.

So maybe it’s jealousy.

Or it could be the fact that her last hit “Irreplaceable” had such potential to be a strong woman song, but only succeeded in being an anthem for chicks who like to jump from one relationship to another: “You must not know about me / I could have another you in a minute / matter fact he’ll be here in a minute – baby”.

So maybe I’m just sick of the lyrics she sings (but doesn’t write). Read More »