Fugyonce

Everybody loves a disco ball. It’s a wee sphere of glee. I have a small replica of one hanging from my ceiling right now, and it always makes me want either to boogie down or put on some roller skates.

I’m going to name it “Beyonce.”

Because it would have been about as flattering if she’d just poked her legs and arms through an actual disco ball and worn it on-stage. Dreamgirls is over, B. Let it die with your Oscar hopes, okay?