Monday, June 19, 2006

Paul Revere and Madonna

I suppose it's ok to make it "official" now.

I'm heading to Boston in a couple of weeks to see Mommy Madonna on tour.

I've got to tell you...I never thought I'd be able to see her in concert. I'll never forget when my ex-friends, Jeff & Tri, went to see her with some tickets that somebody gave them and they seemed so underwhelmed by the concert (Drowned World).

I simply couldn't believe their lack of enthusiasm...I mean, this is Madonna we are talking about here. In fact, once I was finally able to see that concert via DVD, I declared "Drowned World" as the best concert ever.

That's the joy of Momma Madonna. She keeps topping herself.

SIDEBAR: I'd really love to see Madonna ACTUALLY top herself, if you know what I mean.

Anyway, Brian...one of my closest friends who lives diagonally on the other side of the USA went on to fuel my "I'll never get to see Madonna in concert whining" when he was able to go see Madonna two-nights-in-a-row for the Re-invention Tour.

Two nights -- WITH incredible seats.

His photos made me green with envy, as it look like she was in his living room on a bar stool with a guitar -- with better lighting.

I was happy for him. I really was. It was exciting to hear someone who finally enjoyed the experience of seeing her in concert AND was so happy about it. I was able to live vicariously though him.

Now, the tables have turned.

Brian isn't able to go. He has made me the sacrificial lamb and has graciously given me the opportunity to head to Boston to pop my Madonna cherry.

I refuse to wear a rubber.

I want every bit of her delicious amazingness to seep into every pore on my body.

I want Brian to be as happy for me as I was for him.

I only hope I don't let him down.

I'm doing a wham-bam trip to Boston for this concert.

Fly in...to the hotel bar...to the TD Banknorth Center...then who knows or who cares.

I probably should spend an extra day to truly sight-see in Boston, but I honestly don't care.

After the concert, I'm most likely going back to the hotel and to bed. I don't want to visit some crappy Boston bars and allow some preening bitchy fags to ruin my night of bliss.

I'll be bcak in Orlando by 3:30pm the following day.

Pray for me...

...I'm working on my confessions.

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