If there is indeed a God, there is certainly a preponderance of evidence that God is sick of this failed and unruly human experiment and is therefore on a roll of smiting us. Donald Trump, for instance, and Ted Cruz and John Kasich and Marco Rubio and Ben Carson and them. Even still, after that, Meghan Trainor attempting to dance to a song that sounds like an off-Strip Vegas Britney impersonator attempting a rejected Destiny’s Child single is a close ninth or tenth contender.
Amplifying this tragedy is choreography by the esteemed Fatima Robinson, taking it down to beginner level, yet which Trainor nonetheless executes in a wooden manner even the famed dancefloor-travesty Katy Perry would scoff at.
I would say this is the beginning of The End in the realm of Trainorville, were it not for the devastation that ensues if one Googles “Meghan Trainor” and “soca.”
I would go back to Mass regularly if it meant this would stop.