In 2005, Rihanna practically spoon-fed me the ingredients to hate her. Her vocal ability was nothing to be desired. She was a cookie-cutter, run-of-the-mill, bubble gum pop star. And for me, being a decorated member of Team Beyonce, her lackluster imitation of The Queen left me unimpressed.
But somewhere around raindrops falling on her umbrella-ella-ella (eh, eh, eh), she broke me down.
I took a sip of the Kool-Aid and it tasted great– not too sweet and not too bland. I won’t say that I’m hooked, but I sure as hell don’t mind it in my cup, or on my iPod.
Yet others don’t share my sentiments. I believe Rihanna deserves far more props (and a lot less hate) than she’s given. So before you go hurling your cyber stones at me in the comments section below, let me explain…