Does anyone else smell a Cheesy Gordita Crunch?
With “Your Body” currently setting the charts ablaze at #58 on the Billboard Hot 100 after 4 weeks (SAY!), it’s safe to say that iconic 2001 Blockbuster Award-winning songstress Christina Aguilera owns the throne yet again.
This week, the Mi Reflejo chanteuse took a breather from her hectic schedule of having Baby Max dye her hair in a bathtub full of pink Kool-Aid, writing homoerotic One Direction slash fan-fiction and spraying down her lawn with Christina Aguilera: Red Sin to keep the woodland creatures away at night in order to SAY a few things about her upcoming grand masterpiece, Lotus to Rolling Stone.
And once again, she’s out-Legendtina‘ed herself.
Below are some of the gems from Rolling Stone‘s story about the upcoming LP (not made up!), which was shakily typed out by the hogtied writer in front of Legendtina’s 1996 IBM with a bat hovering just above his head.
Prepare for Britney shade, Bionic praise and a whole lot of…SAY!
(Oh, and she also snuck backstage at Chelsea Lately last night to spread her legs.)
Every now and then (much more often now than then, really), there comes a time when Christina Aguilera, the actual human being, reaffirms the very existence of “Legendtina,” the persona I’ve crafted on MuuMuse.
Earlier today, Billboard published their cover story regarding Aguilera’s upcoming album, Lotus, along with an extended Q&A. The latter half of the story–the most incredible parade of endless shade, self-praise and delusion that the pages of Billboard have surely seen in years–is yet another one of those reaffirming moments.
I truly wish it was I who wrote these quotes, but nay: They’re all very real, very legendary, and very much from Christina Aguilera herself. There are truly no words to express these kinds of emotions–only GIFs.
Enjoy, and let us not forget…who owns the throne. (Does anyone else hear a cackling in the distance?)
BOW DOWN.
Get down on your knees and behold, basic bitches: Phoenixtina Risinguilera has arrived–ditching the crown, the fan, and switching out the Blu-Red lipstick in favor of Prima Donna Pink–to reign on the cover of Billboard Magazine this week.
BOW DOWN.
Inside a sprawling chateau in Hollywood, the buxom blonde sits quietly typing at her 1996 IBM wearing a studded diaper, a crown and a sparkling corset.
“‘I’ve never done this sort of thing before’ says Harry, as he leans in and tenderly kisses Louis on the mouth,” Legendtina writes down in her Xanga. Flustered, she orders her assistant over, who waves a Bionic promotional fan at her face.
After a few hours, she minimizes the One Direction erotica she’s been feverishly writing and logs onto Twitter. Login: “TheRealXtina.” Password: “MariahCareyIsFat69besos.” 300,000 responses since 9 AM. Legend, she notes quietly to herself before clicking on the “@ Mentions” tab.
Suddenly, she spits out all of her wine onto the monitor.
Old Christina. Old Christina. OLD CHRISTINA.
“I DON’T EVEN KNOW IF THAT IS A MAN OR A WOMAN!” Legendtina barks, throwing her Bionic promotional chalice at her assistant’s face and launching into a uncontrollable yodel note that lasts for 17 seconds. “Returned?!” she yelps.
No, Legendtina. Ignore this lesser–you’ve got a decade of hits, she thinks to herself. It keeps getting better. “WHAT IS AN ARTPOP, EVEN?!” she screams.
After several hours, she finally collects herself: “Thank you fan, @LadyGaga,” Legendtina slowly responds–her fingers shaking with rage at the keyboard–”Do you make music too? Buy #YourBody on iTunes now! -XoXtina.” Sent.
She minimizes Twitter, takes a deep breath and launches iTunes. Carefully, she stalks the Top 100 music chart. “WTF is a Gangnam Style? -XoXtina” she notes down in her Stripped notepad. And then, there it is: “Your Body,” #4. A chill seizes the entire room.
“MAX!” she bellows, as her toddler comes wobbling innocently into the room. “LET US NOT FORGET: Who owns the throne?” she demands.
“You do, mommy,” he sighs. How many times must I validate this sad woman’s existence, he ponders to himself while looking down and flicking the Play-Doh off of his overalls. Quietly, he retires to the living room and–after glancing left to right–quickly bends down and slides his Twister Dance box out from under the couch. “Ready to rock da spots, Godney,” he whispers.
Back in the Back to Basics Study, Legendtina stares murderously at her bruised assistant. “Is there–is there anything else I can do for you? Do you want something to eat?” he asks, trembling. “Yes, lesser,” she responds after a while. “I want sex for breakfast.”
His screams are barely audible above the cackling as Legendtina reapplies another coat of Blu-Red lipstick.
“Your Body” was released on September 17. (iTunes)
Friday morning. The studio of The Voice is empty, dark and silent–until a cackle pierces the air.
A voluptuous blonde wearing a crown and a studded diaper sits silently at her red swivel chair, surveying the newspaper she stole from outside. “‘The Voice Beats X Factor Premiere,’ do you hear that?” she announces toward the hog-tied Nielsen ratings representative sitting in the audience.
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