In the summer of 1982 a young girl came to my apartment on East 10th Street. She was looking to sublet it, while I was in Europe. Her name was Madonna. She checked the bathtub in the kitchen and the water closet off the small living room, then said, “I’ll think about it.”
Madonna never called back and within six months she was a star.
In 1995 I had three dreams about having sex with Madonna.
They scared the bejesus out of me and now 13 years later the newspapers are reporting her affair with A-rod, the New York Yankees star player. Her husband, an English director, has returned from the land of the teabags not in a good mood.
I liked his film SNATCH. I haven’t listened to any of her music since MATERIAL GIRL and I hate the Yankees, especially A-Rod.
After all I’m a Red Sox fan.
Still I bet she’s a little kinky. Just a little and we like kinky and not just a little.
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