So everybody knows that I am a huge Madonna fan. This is usually the point when some bitchy queen chimes in with an eye roll or some snarky comment. Well YOU can go fuck yourself. I mean that literally; find a way to insert your own penis into your ass, move it in and out, and literally fuck yourself. I love her.
When I was younger my dad didn’t like me listening to music. At the time gangsta rap was prevalent and he was afraid if I listened to what was out there I might join a gang or have an orgy or something. He didn’t want music to influence me to make bad decisions, which is a good-at-heart parenting move, but something people should learn to embrace is to talk to their children about outside influences, not try to block them from the outside world. They’re going to hear/see stuff no matter what, and if you try to block them from it they are only going to interpret that as “I have questions about this but I can’t go to my parents, so who will I talk to about it?” That’s where the dangerous part comes in to play.
p.s. I was allowed to listen to his music (on CASETTE. omg @ dating myself). His music of choice was Styx, Oingo Boing, AC/DC, etc. All good wholesome bands.
I was about 13 when my mom snuck me my first CD (CD!!). It was Madonna’s Immaculate Collection — an album hailed as one of histories “must haves” in regards to the 80s. She handed it to me, I was in my bedroom, and she told me “Don’t tell your dad.”
Madonna then became a symbol of untapped forbidden extracurricular enjoyment for me, and my prying eyes and ears wanted more.
I would take trips to Warehouse Records in Torrance (it was a place, I promise) and just flip through all the CDs that she had released. The artwork on the album covers taunted me, because I was a good little boy and I wasn’t about to purchase something I was told not to. But I wanted it. I WANTED IT. Then she released Bedtime Stories, and upon hearing Human Nature — a song about being repressed and not caring anymore — my itch became a scratch and it needed attention.
I was a member of that horrible pyramid scheme BMG music. It’s where you could sign up to order CDs via snail-mail and, unless you told them otherwise, they would send and bill you for the pick-of-the-month. I abused that fucker like no other, and when Madonna’s Bedtime Stories was released, I decided to stand my ground.
I tried to reason with my dad. ”It’s just music! It’s not like I am going to go out there and start having sex!” This statement is probably hilarious to those who knew me back then.
“Human Nature IS sex!” he replied. I stood my ground, and in the end he gave me permission to buy it.
Madonna has since been a connection between me and my mom. Whenever I listen to Madonna I think of my mom. Her act of treason opened up the doors to my musical life, and although I have obviously discovered other artists that I love, Madonna still holds a very dear and precious part of my heart.
I should point out that my dad, by my 16th birthday, loosened up a lot, and even bought Madonna’s SEX book for me. He told me when he gave it to me; “I was going to buy you the video of the behind-the-scenes of the book, but I felt like that would be too much.”
Madonna’s SEX book inspired me to research other erotic-themed photography because I saw it as so romantic despite the raw sexuality of it all — which people typically view as crude — and lead to me being one of the dolls here at Darling House. Just a little back story for you on how I got here. Once I finish my upcoming art/erotica zine you’ll see what I mean. Oh and yeah, by the way I am working on my next zine. Photography by Travis Williams. Stay tuned!
she someone just leaked her new song “Give Me All Your Love” and I am loving it. It’s simple, it’s campy, it’s pop — It’s Madonna doing whatever the fuck she wants.
Check it out: