I am deeply, deeply saddened this day to have to report that this is not, as one should think by looking at it, a picture of a bored housewife in Idaho who passed it off as TMZ to Madonna. Unfortunately, I can say with certainty that this an actual picture of Madonna’s actual sweaty boobs. Posted by Madonna. On her Instagram. Which she just – against the advice of any true friend she has – hopped back on yesterday for the first time since November.
I can only imagine how my poor mother, who always talks about jamming out to Borderline in her college dorm room, is going to take this recent turn of events. Talk about life is a mystery; Madonna is a living legend. Why is she posting half-face pouty-mouth lip-gloss-on-even-though-I-just-worked-out black-bra-strap-out sweaty bathroom boob pics like a desperate fifteen year old who didn’t get enough positive affirmation growing up?
Come on now. Usually when a picture like this pops up on my News Feed I feel guilty for even being part of a society that breeds girls that base their self-worth on how many likes their pictures get. I then make sure my little brother isn’t Facebook friends with that girl and hope it’s just a phase for her. Madonna is for starters, fifty four years old, but more importantly one of Time’s 25 Most Powerful Women of the Past CENTURY and the best selling female recording artist of ALL TIME. That level of accomplishment and the caption “Cheers motherfuckers! I’m on instagram” just don’t add up.
I yearn for the parallel universe where Madonna just lived out her retirement in peaceful bliss in a house full of money and Grammys and surprised us every ten years at an awards show, proving how hot she still is and reminding us why she will always be the queen of pop. Are 9,480 likes on a picture of your tatas really better?
(Photos: Instagram, @madonna)