I’ve always hated you but for once you’ve made me happy. First, because while posing for a picture of my big biker boots, I realize that I’m five years older than you and I never exercise. Ha ha, all that time and torture, you could have been sitting around on your ass and still look okay!
Much more important, Madge, you announced your divorce just when this great country of our needs an intervention. The election is ruining our days and haunting our dreams. Nothing short of your break-up with Guy could have diverted my attention from the horror that is John McCain and Mrs. Palin. Just this short break from the every day grind of fear and loathing has been a tonic!
I’ve been longing for this divorce since the day you got married. It proves that you can’t just move into an English manor and adopt a silly accent and expect people to forget what an annoying egomaniac you are. You’ve got half a billion dollars and you still can’t figure anything out! All Guy wanted was to get to make his gangster movies and have a couple of pints at night with his mates, but no, you couldn’t let him be happy.
You had to go fill your cheeks up with Sculptra and steal a black baby and run around in your leotard instead of turning your attention to poor Guy. You had to spend every day with Gwyneth in the gym, bitching about fame and making her lose weight. You had to make everybody go all Kabbalah, even your innocent kids, and then you had to go and fuck a married baseball player.
FIne, we know how much you love Latinos and sports stars but Madge, you ruined Guy’s reputation as a director and then you made him fly to New York to pretend things were cool! What is it exactly that you want, besides big muscles and and Ed Hardy tracksuits?
Whatever it is, I hope you never get it. You’ve been a constant irritant in the oyster of my life, without producing one single pearl, unless you count my abiding hatred as a precious gem. I’ve hated you through every one of your phases, and I know I’ll hate you in perpetuity. If the sun rises, I’ll hate you, is what I’m trying to say.
Thank you Madonna for letting us change the subject, however briefly, and for teaching us the true meaning of schadenfreude.