Here's how a major announcement would roll in the life of Brando: short, quick, brief moments of celebration, smug congratulations and thank-yous from people before the realization that only douches do that sort of thing and I'd be captain of their army.
And nobody wants to hitch a ride on that train of thought.
Thing is, I'm not a superstar nor do I aspire to be one. Plenty of other things could be checked off my bucket list, but being so famous that I'm immediately associated with the phrases "crazy," "Napoleon complex" and "Katt Williams" isn't one of them. Not my cup of tea. But it is surely fascinating watching one particular star decide to leak out new information on a daily basis that is both parts stop-the-presses captivating and overwhelming.
Two thousand thirteen is about living inside of a microwave. And Beyoncé just mastered it in five days' time.
SUNDAY Queen B is bouncing off the walls, ecstatic that her commercials with Pepsi (who gave her $50 million to endorse its product) are starting to run during the NFL playoffs. Her daughter just had her first birthday and, for a present, got a $1 million suite to sit inside father Jay-Z's brand-new Brooklyn arena. The nursery where Blue Ivy gets to chill during games has replica dinosaur eggs which may or may not actually be replicas. I'm not even making that up. Okay, I am, but you still sort of have to believe it.
Also, I'd beat her in UNO. No joke. There's an UNO patch on my Texans letterman jacket.
MONDAY Tumblr and Instagram are Beyoncé's main two avenues of communication to the world. She'll mean-mug in poses with Rockets snapback hats and then write eloquent letters that get press simply because she penned them. That's life. Oh, and then news sort of breaks that she might be doing big things this spring. We think it's a new album of sorts. We think we're prepared, but we aren't. Oh, not even by a long shot.
TUESDAY To combine forces of fame and richness and power, Beyoncé has been tapped to sing at President Barack Obama's second inauguration. I haven't seen the guest list, but I'm pretty sure she and Jay-Z are one of the only couples who got invited back after performing during the first Inauguration. My big announcement? Wondering how in the world did Notre Dame get dusted in Monday's National Championship Game. That prompted my father, a guy who could care less about college football, to ask me before work, "So...that was the Texans game on repeat, wasn't it?"
Too soon, man, too soon.
Somebody just so happens to leak a photo of Beyoncé's upcoming February GQ cover, and Twitter goes absolutely nuts. Rumors start swirling, "How did she even have a baby to have THAT sort of body?" Didn't "Bootylicious" teach you people anything?
GQ pretty much is forced to reveal the actual cover after more images from the spread leak out, thus allowing the Internet to prove how almighty it can be when a leak happens. It's the biggest amount of press GQ has received for a cover since Rihanna wore not much more than John Travolta's Grease jacket a few months ago.
Then Justin Timberlake reveals he has a song coming with both Bey and Hov, and the world collectively loses its minds once more. How? How in the world can one woman be part of so much news? And holy crap, JUSTIN SAYS WE'RE GETTING NEW MUSIC FROM HIM TOMORROW.
That Timberlake news? Man, it completely Rick Ross'd everything in existence. Major announcement is a trailer for your major announcement. Bloggers moaned and griped because they knew a new JT song would equal massive hits and shutter productivity for the day.
Oh, and just to one-up her friend, Beyoncé jumps on Tumblr to tell the world that there's a new Destiny's Child song coming, for a compilation of Destiny's Child love songs. I think somebody might have peeked into a Spotify slow-jam/babymaker playlist and said, "Hey, let's just make an album of these!"
The GQ article now runs in its entirety. Beyoncé reveals that her life is the goddamn Truman Show by capturing every interview she's ever done, every press stop and every performance and storing them in her own museum. There's not a moment where you say to yourself, what doesn't she document because there's a guy who films that, too. And this isn't just for her upcoming HBO Documentary -- IT'S FOR HER LIFE, BECAUSE GIRLS RUN THE WORLD (or something).
She also offers up two gems, one being that she listens to "Make Love to Me" before she makes love to her husband, and something that will be plastered in yearbooks all over the country -- "I now know that, yes, I am powerful... I'm more powerful than my mind can even digest and understand."
Crap, and the only profound thing I could think of was saying I'd rather be any hero but Superman.
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