I thought that after winning 20 Grammy awards, attaining a net worth north of $450 million, and being considered one of the greatest artists and icons of all time, there was no way Beyoncé could do it again. But somehow she has found a way to do the unthinkable once more.
Beyoncé has blocked my driveway with her damn Escalade yet again!
That’s 18 fucking times since she moved next door to me.
18 TIMES! And every time I’ve been a good neighbor and never called the police or a tow truck.
Jay-Z cheated on her like ONE TIME and she made a 13-track visual album about it! You don’t see me being so petty and passive aggressive to stoop that low. Nope, I won’t compose, record, and film a visual album called Move Your Fucking Escalade! I’m bigger than that.
However, I’ll admit the idea had crossed my mind.
I’ll just have to walk on over to her mega mansion, knock on her door, talk to her butler’s butler, and have him pass the word on to Beyoncé that she needs to get out and move the damn SUV into one of her own many driveways paved with gold and broken pieces of the patriarchy.
Which will still take an hour or so since she’s probably busy playing tennis with like Elton John or something. And guess whose yard gets littered with the tennis balls that bounce over her fence? Mine! My yard! And what happens when I ask “Sasha Fierce” to come pick up her tennis balls? She says “Oh, yeah, sure. I’ll do that tomorrow, Greg.” And guess what? She doesn’t come tomorrow. She doesn’t come ever.
And my name isn’t Greg. It’s Marcus. Say My Name, Beyoncé, and SAY IT RIGHT!
All I’m asking is for some common decency between neighbors. Know my name, don’t park your Escalade in front of my driveway, and make me an honorary member of Destiny’s Child when I ask politely.
These aren’t crazy demands! Yet Beyoncé does none of them.
I have half a mind to bring her up to the homeowners association and get her kicked out of the neighborhood. Then she’ll be singing a different tune!
All the moving ladies!
All the moving ladies!
Put your hands up and wave goodbye to Marcus who will finally get some peace and quiet at night instead of hearing you race your husband around the neighborhood in your private helicopters!
Okay, that’s not the catchiest of tunes, but I’m sure if she sings it, it’ll sound better.
Ugh! Screw this! I’m just gonna break into her Escalade and hot wire it. She won’t miss it. She has like 50 of them. Plus, she might even be impressed by my bold move. So impressed, in fact, that she might fulfill my request and make all of my dreams come true. Yeah!
Marcus, you son of a gun, you’re finally gonna be an honorary member of Destiny’s Child.
Time to get Bootylicious!