I know I said yesterday that we should never mention Madonna‘s name again, but it’s like scratching one’s crotch in the summertime—you just can’t help it! So I want to say that the most damaging thing of all in Christopher Ciccone‘s unimaginatively titled book, Life With My Sister Madonna, is not the revelation that Sean Penn told her she couldn’t act; that she faked the flower petal scene in Truth or Dare; that she said a model in Vogue looked ugly; or that she doesn’t like to feel ripped off. It’s the cover photo! A black and-white shot of the superstar with hand on hip and eyes looking off the page, her famous gap tooth exposed by a glinty half-smile, it makes my girl look weird and nasty and facially implanted, almost like a deranged puppet. On the back cover is a shot of Ciccone himself—that’s what she’s glancing at, I guess—and he looks absolutely OK. This is outrageous! Fine, buy this book, people, but please use the cover for toilet paper out of respect for our queen!