I have a problem with the fact that there’s no air in here, and I’m gonna die.
Open the door. Now.
AFTER HOURS, EVERY NIGHT, EVEN AFTER ALL!
I can make moves on the dance floor. I can make love on a man’s floor.
Debi Mazar, analyze this.
Kind of obsessed with my laptop.
Madonna, Ronaldo, and Ronaldinho all looking at each other before ditching Chris Martin and the rest of FIFA.
Don’t piss me off, wench.
If I was I a dog, I would be a man.
It’s not okay. I DON’T FUCK WITH IT.
Finally, they’re all here.
Meeting trade outside my front door for one last look before committing:
MDNA should be last, but I guess I can overlook Madame X’s placement too.
There’s:
• nothing
• that we
• can not
• do
EVERYBODY GET UP AND DANCE
A new holy scripture drops tonight. Everybody say, “Thank you, Madonna!”
“There’s only so much you can learn in one place. The more that I wait, the more time that I waste.”
Double the matcha, double the healing.
Madonna, please release song of the year NOW! I need it.
