May 3, 2017 | celebrity | Sam Robeson | 0 Comments
Being Mariah Carey is the best job in the world. She eats whatever she wants. Obviously. Sitting on a reported $520 million dollars means she can look like a fist squeezing Play-Doh and not give a fuck. An inner circle of ass suckers has reinforced the delusional image Carey sees when looking into any reflective surface. They’ve probably replaced her mirror with a cardboard cutout of Kate Upton. Carey has the undeserved confidence we should all aspire to.
Last night photographers mistook Carey for an extremely well dressed vagrant on the verge of overdosing. She was leaving Catch in Los Angeles. She might have had a cocktail. The cutout in Carey’s black leather dress is lined with crumpled nude fabric that doesn’t match her skin tone. Her tits look great. Everything else, not so much.
Carey’s voice has left the building. She lost a Lip Synch Battle against herself during New Year’s Eve in front of millions of eyeballs. She doesn’t care. She was already imagining how fierce she would look squeezed into her next designer cut dress. Social Media has exacerbated society’s self-doubt. Our relevance is contingent on the double taps of others. Kendall Jenner quit Instagram for three seconds due to her dependence on likes. Not Carey. She’s the princess of her own fairytale world filled with butterflies, gay backup dancers who dream of older fat woman sex, and cheesecake. This is the face of success.
Photo Credit: Splash News