I'm a celebrity hound. All those crazy paparazzo stalking celebs to snap a quick glimpse of their day to day lives are for guys like me. (I'm sorry Kanye West but my money is the reason you have no privacy.) I love the shots of spontaneous celebs drinking coffee, jogging down the street, getting parking tickets. Just today I got my fill of Madonna in all her candid glory. She was on Letterman and in the flesh: fidgeting in her seat, fudging witty remarks and flicking her hair. Like all great paparazzi footage the images of Madonna were satisfyingly voyeuristic and surprising.

It was great to see her in the flesh; I mean, it's great to see such a big star- an icon- without the fanfare, limelight and Photoshopped effects of the silver screen. There she was, perched in a chair next to Letterman. Her hair was a nice change from the light blonde look: it's golden blonde now with jagged-cut layers through the ends creating a lovely weightless and textured finish. She flicks it as she looks to the crowd for assurance after most every response she makes to Letterman's banter. She can't get comfortable in her seat either. She's not that witty. Her legs are thinner and paler than I thought.

The voyeuristic pleasure of live interviews and paparazzi photos is what celebrity is all about. The enjoyment for the celebrity hound comes from weighing up your expectations with what you see before you. In the case of Madonna's Letterman appearance I was a bit surprised. She just didn't look like I expected. I mean, she's smaller and her face tighter. It almost seems like face-lifts have erased the real Madonna the same way you smooth out creases in a freshly made bed. And I couldn't help but think she looked like Cyndi Lauper- a slightly younger version of the Cyndi Lauper of today.