Human cupcake Ariana Grande has demons, a predilection for serial killing, the power of Kabbalah on her side, a Moon Man trophy after last night’s VMAs, no time for Katy Perry, and the showily soulful voice of someone playing Mariah Carey in a Broadway musical biopic. What she does not have, though, is the general ability to articulate her words when she sings. Someone I was talking to at a party this weekend described her as having permanent peanut butter mouth. That person is correct.

Though it was originally reported that pint-sized whistle tone conduit Ariana Grande wore a dress by Moschino to the VMAs last night, we've just received word she actually borrowed it from her good friend, Bratz! doll Cloe.

Pint-sized pop singer Ariana Grande is the reason why the phrase "cutie patootie" exists, even at age 21. But did you know that lurking deep down that adorable, quinceañera-frequenting exterior, below even the demons she speaks freely about, may be the cold-blooded heart of a serial killer? It's true, she said it to Billboard in a tossed-off aside that the industry mag then blared on its cover, as a pull quote on a photo within the accompanying story, and in a press release announcing the article last week.

Bouncy-haired singer Ariana Grande—whom you may know from her hit single "The Way," or because the teens in your life are always sending Keeks about her to Facerange on their Blueberries®—seems like her life would be all catchy hooks, and bubblegum sunsets, and buying a new pair of earrings that you love. And it probably is! But, as she recently told Complex magazine, it's also full of demons from hell who constantly terrorize her and wreak havoc on her vulnerable psyche.

If this week’s deluge of new R&B releases were dining experiences, John Legend’s fourth album, Love in the Future, would be a sort of traditional Italian, white-table-cloth, ancient-waiter affair. Tamar Braxton’s Love and War, meanwhile, would be more like a visit to Olive Garden – its charm is in its tacky populism. Jaheim’s sixth album, Appreciation Day, falls somewhere in between – he uses his Vandross-like pipes to sing things that Luther never would (the title track’s unabridged name is actually “Pussy Appreciation Day”). Continuing the culinary theme, Janelle Monáe’s sophomore album The Electric Lady (out next week) is like an eclectic tasting menu where all the dishes are arranged around soul. The Weeknd’s Kiss Land (also out next week) is Doggy Chow. My favorite R&B album of the year, AlunaGeorge’s Body Music, is like molecular gastronomy.