Godammit, I’m Mad!

YES. She nailed it.

Having fallen off a horse, Madge takes her face and a female underling out to dinner.

Kate Winslet must be waking up in a cold sweat every morning, wondering if her head is still intact. What the hell!  Is Madonna storing nuts for the winter, or is this a pint of Sculptra in those cheeks? She is embarrassing me personally, in her role as poster girl for the Frisky Menopausal Woman.

If she fell off a horse every day for eternity, it wouldn’t begin to atone for her crimes against humanity. But she should still do it.

On a brighter note, check out this poster for the Bruno movie:

Hahahaha!  I can’t wait.

Do you love it or do you love it?

All this photo needs is a good caption. Got one, anybody?

Remember when we all admired  her unibrow and moustache? Lourdes has evidently succumbed to either societal pressure or her mother’s obsession with beauty procedures. Here they are arriving in Malawi to purchase a new child.

Six months ago, Lourdes was still sporting the natural look.

Oh well. Lourdes is a beautiful girl, but it would have been nice for young women to have a new role model in the Frida Kahlo tradition. I just hope it was Lourdes who made the decision to go for the clean shaven look.

If your mom filled her face up with Sculptra and botox, you might have conflicted feelings about beauty and its importance. On the left, above, I see a woman who has drunk from Life’s Cup. On the right, I see a woman who has siphoned the Cup into her cheeks.

By this time tomorrow, Lourdes may have a new little sister. I’m sure it’s not really colonialism on Madonna’s part to enlarge her family by plucking children from Africa. She’s just trying to save Malawi, for god sake! As she explained to Vanity Fair, “I didn’t choose Malawi. Malawi chose me.”

Today I read a thing about Gwyneth’s expensive new gym in New York, and her partner/personal trainer, Tracy Anderson. Tracy is also Madonna’s personal trainer, and she takes credit for creating Madge’s controversial body.

If you check out Tracy’s website, you can see a gallery of photos that highlight her sinewy pelvis. There’s probably something wrong with me, because the lean pelvis looks painfully deprived of flesh AND a little too much like a young boy. Call me crazy.

Tracy actually looks more like a nice little troll in real life, and that is comforting. But I knew she was a liar after reading that she only lets Madonna lift 3 pound weights. Girl, don’t play us like that!  Anyone who’s ever lifted weights knows that is bullshit!

Tracy likes to pontificate on her fitness philosophy, which includes the promise of looking young until you’re 100. She talks about it here and all over the place.

However, other people like to talk about Tracy. TMZ talks about some lawsuits against Tracy, and shared her mugshot.

Other people like to talk about how Tracy ripped them off, here.

I was so excited by all this that I went back to Tracy’s website, where if you click on “About Tracy” you will find “A Letter From Tracy,” where she talks about a time in her life full of “bummers.” She whines about being too “trusting” and how she has overcome adversity.

Yay for Tracy! Now I’m happy. I hope Gwyneth and Madonna know all about the “bummers” but if not, oh well, they’re both as lean as beef jerky, and that’s what matters most!

A while back, I wrote on the subject “Why Men Hate Women,” and I still get comments from angry men. (If you enjoy angry men, go and look!)

Today, after reading some of my email, I’m wondering if women are starting to hate themselves, too. Why else would anyone listen to Suzanne Somers, who went on Oprah to discuss her beauty regimen: 60 pills a day and injections in her Female Area!

Why else would anyone want to wax her Female Area, spray it with “24K gold” and have Swarovski crystals glued to it? You must really have to hate the sight of your crotch to mess with it like that.  Ladies, or gay men, do you want to see your man’s Johnson sprayed gold and glued with rhinestones?

God, it’s depressing. We haven’t come very far if this is our lot in life. If the best we can hope for is to pump our faces full of Botox and work out 3 hours a day to look like Madonna at fifty, it would be better to go back to the good old days when pubic hair was actually sexy and you didn’t have to look young forever. You could just wear a girdle if you got fat, and you could stay home and play bridge instead of touring the world in a leotard and top hat.

Are there any decent role models out there besides Patti Smith and Naomi Klein? Maybe we need to cultivate other qualities besides youthfulness and hairlessness. This might be a good subject for our pajama party.

Here is the badge thingy I made for it, but I know Honeypants or someone else could improve it.  Please have a go at it, and send it to me!

Dear Madge,

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.

I know, you all love Madonna. You love her dance hits, you admire her for ‘reinventing’ herself, maybe even for being a survivor in the fickle world of pop music. And you think she looks GREAT for 50!

God, I hate Madonna. Just like my tattoo says, ma haine dure. I saw a video clip from her recent show and wow, she was a sight to behold. She looked to me like a grandma doing calisthenics. She seemed a little winded as she lip synced into the mic, but who wouldn’t, from all that exercise!

To be fair, I should commend Madonna for being a fit granny, because many grannies just let themselves go. But I see her turning into Mae West right before my eyes, and no one seems to want to mention this.

Here’s an offer: I will put on a track suit and jump around while lip syncing the song of your choice, for only $19.99. If you call now, I will throw in some weight-lifting tips, too. I guarantee that I’ll look younger than Madge, if not quite as muscular. I’ll even put on a fake English accent!