...music makes the people come together...

Newsflash: Madonna is tiny. Teeny weenie. TEENY! You think I am short? Pah. That's NOTHING to her.
 
Ask me how I know. G'head. Ask awaaaayyyy!
 
Last night and finally getting out to go to The Best's party with D. By virtue of being 18, D was turned away (even though her ID is quite good, if I say so myself), so we bailed on Milwaukee's and headed to Piccadilly. Standing in line, suddenly the bouncers and club managers get everyone up against the walls and off the street. "Someone's coming" they said. A huge police van drove up, disembarking 10 cops on bicycles. From down the street, four officers on horseback approach. Behind them, two massive black SUV's with a black SUV stretch limo in between. They stop and a throng of people emerge. Bodyguards, friends, associates of... Madonna. With Madonna in between them, they shuffle past and into the club. She was stunning, in white cowboy hat and blondblondblondblond hair. Witness the rest of us standing, jaw-floor, up against the wall. There were shrieks. Mainly from me. It was good.
 
Returned home not long after, having given up on the club scene (we were turned away by four places, in total), to eat ice cream and chat till much later than is good for me considering I have to be at work in an hour.
 
Tonight and the Duke of G, yes? Yes.