You’re having a torrid affair with your neighbor Sylvester Stallone.
You’re having a torrid affair with model Jenny Shimizu.
You pestered Hugh Grant for a date, but he turned you down.
You haven’t had sex with a man for three years.
She laughs. “False.”
You’re about to buy a basketball team.
You were dating John Kennedy Jr. until Jackie Onassis put a stop to it.
You slept with Mick Jagger as a groupie before you were famous.
You’ve placed ads to find a baby to adopt.
You’ve had several abortions.
Warners is in serious trouble because of Maverick, the entertainment company that houses a record label, her music publishing, as well as TV, film, merchandising and book publishing divisions.
“What? Because of funding Maverick?” Another laugh. “False!”
Madonna says she still wants a child. Soon. She says she feels the clock ticking now. “Oh yes, definitely. There’s anxiety.” Would she bring the child up a Catholic? There’s a long pause. “I don’t know. I reek of Catholicism, and I’m sure that even if I didn’t make it go to church, (the child) it would be influenced in a Catholic way. But I don’t think it would be devoutly about being a Catholic.”
How can you bring up a kid in anything like normality?
“In theory, I could probably bring up a child as normal as I can live my life. I think that I surround myself with people who don’t treat me like a celebrity or a freak or whatever, and I would do the same with my child.”
She’s asked about speculation that she’s had affairs with women. “What it boils down to is very good friends who happen to be lesbians and the public automatically assuming that I’m sleeping with them because I have this sexual image. I never bothered to say I’m not, because my attitude is, ‘What if I am? Do you have a problem with it?’ It’s irrelevant. I’m not a lesbian, but I thought it was undignified to say so. I’m not going to say that I’ve never slept with a woman, but”–and here she interrupts herself with her own laughter–“I love men.”
Sandra Bernhard, once Madonna’s official best friend, now is so bitter that the comedienne included a version of “Erotica” in her last stage show, reworking its chorus as “Neurotic.” There’s a long sigh, and what follows is punctuated with long pauses, more sighs, and then reluctant spillages of words. “Ever since our friendship fell apart, I’ve never really spoken about it. She’s spoken so much about it that I felt it would be more dignified if I said nothing. Um. And every year that goes by, I think she’s finally going to be sick of talking about it. But then I just read something today. Obviously I’m still very important in her life–which is quite the opposite of what she’s saying–or she wouldn’t talk about me.”