I have a musical soft spot for Beyonce and Mariah Carey. I'm not proud, but what can you do. Lately, I've found myself singing loudly to Beyonce's latest, a joyous ode to the single ladies.

But I'm pretty sure I won't ever again listen to the song the same again:



Hey, look. I am always dancing around Casa Magnolia. There's nothing wrong with busting out a move to a good tune. But when you throw a leotard around your hearty self and start the camera rolling, you're just asking for trouble.

And there is no better example of how quickly I can go from being amused to horrified. While watching that debacle, I was laughing so hard I experienced minor chest pains, but was at the same almost unable to watch.