In an interview with Esquire’s Tom Chiarrella, Guy Ritchie decides to ignore the fact his ex-wife is fused with ancient powers and bluntly insults her intelligence:
“She’s a manifester, if there ever was one,” he says. “First-rate manifester. Madonna makes things happen. Put Madonna up against any twenty-three-year-old, she’ll outwork them, outdance them, outperform them. The woman is broad.”
“Broad,” I say, repeating the word of the day.
“And, of course, here you go: I still love her,” he says. He takes a breath, drives through a red light. If no one is ahead of him, Guy Ritchie does not typically stop. “But she’s retarded, too.”
The mere fact that Guy Ritchie brazenly calls Madonna “retarded” in a national publication proves what I’ve suspected all along: He knows how to take her down. — Or wants to get dropped in a volcano after being carried by her razor sharp talons. Honestly, it could go either way on this one.