dudden22
07-02-2006, 04:17 PM
Some of these confessions are too funny.
Article Launched: 07/02/2006 12:00:00 AM PDT
Madonna will listen, but will she forgive?
Whisper into Madonna's ear. She wants to hear your confession.
Call (888) 226-6337 and you'll hear her voice, urging you to bare your deepest secrets.
"Leave a confession,'' she says. "And remember, by leaving your confession you're agreeing to allow your message to be released in any form, at any time, until the end of time. So think twice if you've been naughty.''
Indeed, confessions left at the number are quickly turned around and podcast on the pop diva's Web site, Madonna.com (if you visit, click on "EXTRAS'').
It's all a promotion for her "Confessions'' world tour, which continues on the East Coast through July before heading to Europe in August.
Meanwhile, some real doozies are being phoned in to the confession hotline. One caller, for example, describes how she is trying to steal her boss' wife.
Wow. I tried to avoid getting caught up in the whole thing. Really, I did.
But they say confession is good for the soul, and even though I'm not sure Madonna is properly accredited in this state, or any state, to hear confessions, I ultimately couldn't resist.
Hey, can't I indulge in a little fantasy interaction with the stars, just like anyone else? Celebrity worship is rampant in this country, and it affects all of us.
I picked up the phone. Obviously, I didn't want to bore Madonna with some mundane, garden-variety confession. I mean, she's a busy person, and she doesn't need to hear about my compulsive overuse of baby powder or my secret "Teletubbies'' video cassette collection.
No, I wanted to tell her a secret that would engage her personal interest, that would seem meaningful to her, and her alone. I thought and thought, as I dialed the number, but when I heard her voice, I guess I sort of freaked. I found myself blurting out, "I confess I bought your best-hits CD, ‘The Immaculate Collection,' but it's still in its original shrink wrapper. I've never even played it. Most of the songs seem dated now!''
I was so embarrassed. You should have seen me. My face was red and my heart was thumping. I didn't call back for several minutes.
I really wanted to make a better impression this time. Definitely I didn't want to waste her time with some jibber jabber about my obsession with round objects, or my recurring Betty Crocker dream. No, I wanted to say something that would strike a personal chord with Madonna herself.
Again, I think I dialed too quickly, before I completely collected my thoughts. Once more, I spaced out when I heard her voice. I think I said something like, "I confess I thought you were great in your supporting role in ‘Desperately Seeking Susan' and I loved your ensemble work in ‘A League of Their Own,' so it's too bad you made all those other movies where you're the big star, because those movies stink!''
Was that my voice I was hearing? I slammed down the phone and covered my head with my arms. Idiot!
I tried one more time, determined to get it right this time. And no, I wasn't going to test her patience with some long, rambling story about my raging elbow fetish or my lucky underwear.
Now, more than ever, I wanted to connect with Madonna on an individual level. I wanted her to know that I appreciate her for the person she is, and I would never confuse her with those other pop songsters like Britney Spears.
I dialed again. This time I was ready. I said what was on my mind.
I think I messed up again, though.
I'm pretty sure I said, "There's no way Kevin Federline is worthy of you!''
Article Launched: 07/02/2006 12:00:00 AM PDT
Madonna will listen, but will she forgive?
Whisper into Madonna's ear. She wants to hear your confession.
Call (888) 226-6337 and you'll hear her voice, urging you to bare your deepest secrets.
"Leave a confession,'' she says. "And remember, by leaving your confession you're agreeing to allow your message to be released in any form, at any time, until the end of time. So think twice if you've been naughty.''
Indeed, confessions left at the number are quickly turned around and podcast on the pop diva's Web site, Madonna.com (if you visit, click on "EXTRAS'').
It's all a promotion for her "Confessions'' world tour, which continues on the East Coast through July before heading to Europe in August.
Meanwhile, some real doozies are being phoned in to the confession hotline. One caller, for example, describes how she is trying to steal her boss' wife.
Wow. I tried to avoid getting caught up in the whole thing. Really, I did.
But they say confession is good for the soul, and even though I'm not sure Madonna is properly accredited in this state, or any state, to hear confessions, I ultimately couldn't resist.
Hey, can't I indulge in a little fantasy interaction with the stars, just like anyone else? Celebrity worship is rampant in this country, and it affects all of us.
I picked up the phone. Obviously, I didn't want to bore Madonna with some mundane, garden-variety confession. I mean, she's a busy person, and she doesn't need to hear about my compulsive overuse of baby powder or my secret "Teletubbies'' video cassette collection.
No, I wanted to tell her a secret that would engage her personal interest, that would seem meaningful to her, and her alone. I thought and thought, as I dialed the number, but when I heard her voice, I guess I sort of freaked. I found myself blurting out, "I confess I bought your best-hits CD, ‘The Immaculate Collection,' but it's still in its original shrink wrapper. I've never even played it. Most of the songs seem dated now!''
I was so embarrassed. You should have seen me. My face was red and my heart was thumping. I didn't call back for several minutes.
I really wanted to make a better impression this time. Definitely I didn't want to waste her time with some jibber jabber about my obsession with round objects, or my recurring Betty Crocker dream. No, I wanted to say something that would strike a personal chord with Madonna herself.
Again, I think I dialed too quickly, before I completely collected my thoughts. Once more, I spaced out when I heard her voice. I think I said something like, "I confess I thought you were great in your supporting role in ‘Desperately Seeking Susan' and I loved your ensemble work in ‘A League of Their Own,' so it's too bad you made all those other movies where you're the big star, because those movies stink!''
Was that my voice I was hearing? I slammed down the phone and covered my head with my arms. Idiot!
I tried one more time, determined to get it right this time. And no, I wasn't going to test her patience with some long, rambling story about my raging elbow fetish or my lucky underwear.
Now, more than ever, I wanted to connect with Madonna on an individual level. I wanted her to know that I appreciate her for the person she is, and I would never confuse her with those other pop songsters like Britney Spears.
I dialed again. This time I was ready. I said what was on my mind.
I think I messed up again, though.
I'm pretty sure I said, "There's no way Kevin Federline is worthy of you!''