Well, today is Madonna’s birthday. It’s like the birth of the Baby Jesus to the Gay World. The day our queen (amongst queens) plopped onto planet Earth with a little bounce that turned into a thrumming disco thud.

I must admit that Madonna’s birthday is a little bittersweet for me. You see, I spent a meaningful afternoon with M several years ago and, well, the bitch never spoke to me again. Now, I call her a bitch with love and respect. After all, anyone who has featured herself trussed like a leather-bound Thanksgiving fetish goose and had a knife wielded at her wazoo by a shaved and pierced dyke can take a little “bitch” from little ol’ me.

Meanwhile, back to my bitter heart. M was in Toronto promoting a little album called Ray of Light. I was writing a radio show in those days and suggested we get an interview with Madonna for our little audio offering. I was told by one of the on-air personalities that if he couldn’t get an interview with her, I was spit-out-of-luck. The gauntlet had been thrown. Read the full story