…I see that old familiar face:
Not that I give a rat’s ass about Madonna — her music, her multicolored family or her Play-Doh face — but sheesh….
And I apologize for the above. Let’s try to mindscrape that foulness with something a lot less frightening:
Less frightening? You crazy. She’d kill me to death just by smiling at me.
In Grumpier Old Men, Walter Matthau walks up the Jack Lemmon singing “I’m a gangster of love” about his previous night with Sophia. Jack inquires “Was it a stick-up or a hold-up?”
the pictures of Madonna put me off breakfast. Thanks