Against my better instincts there I was sitting next to “Matt” in his teeny tiny car listening to his “awesome MP3 Player” . It was pretty cool. “Go ahead,” he smiled. “Browse that motherfu**er.”

Browse.

1. I Wanna Sex You Up: Tick tock get up stop… tick tock get up STOP.
2. Material Girl: Seriously.
3. Like A Prayer: Madonna? Really?
4. Besame, Besame Mucho: alright, this is a joke.

“You like Madonna?”
“I love her! She’s amazing. Did you see her concert? God that Yoga body is HOT HOT stuff.”

5. generic techno music.
6. generic techon music.
7. generic techno music.
8. HOT HOT HOT… feeling hot hot hot…
9. Madonna

“Really? You really like Madonna?”
“I love her! She’s awesome. I saw her doing salsa on her last video, I’m totally in to that now.”
“Anything else you’re interested in?”
Pause. Pause. Pause. I thought about how I could have been out with Lori watching Sin City.
“Well,” Matt smiled. “You, and Madonna.”

Later when we were eating pizza and he started telling me about how he knows how to Vogue and how he was considering converting to Kaballah I folded.

A girl has to realize… one cannot compete with Madonna. She is Madonna after all.

Cutcha Baldy wrote this on April 27th, 2005 and filed it under Single Life |