Gurl, don’t trip because you know when that Beyonce song comes on, there ain’t a gay guy actin’ like a fool — like they only know one direction. “To the left, to the left” with a pretend hair weave toss and a wag of a long finger, curving away from the right.

The phenomenon is most readily seen in clubs or lounges where hip hop/top 40 is in imminent chaos and the reigning queens of black sisterhood -- Rihanna, Ciara, Mariah, anything that rhymes with diva — are imitated and mimed. Lipsynching isn’t just performed, lyrics aren’t just memorized. The whole being is thrust into that one song-and-dance and engaged in battle with another pseudo-wannabe-black-diva, until the whole place reeks of Aquanet, sweat and music-video silliness. Brace yourself when the Golden Girls’ theme songs comes on though … but that’s another post. Just irreplaceable.