Do I come to her place of business and sensationally kiss Britne
No I don’t, goddamn it, and more’s the pity. I seem to be in a literary mood this afternoon because here’s another book review, this time of Madonna’s latest half-assed attempt to be a writer. I’ve got a chauvinistic chip on my shoulder about this–I think writers are writers, and Madonna isn’t. It’s one of the things that makes me bitter: That regardless of the quality of her work, Madonna can get world-wide publication on her words alone. When if she’d had to rely on flashing her vocabulary to get where she is today (or actually, where she was a few years ago)…
