I know it's old news at this point (a whole two hours after I found out), but I am not going to let this day go by without saying my piece about the death of the King of Pop, Michael Jackson. Sure, he was a weirdo who might have bad touched a few kids and fed them some delicious Jesus Juice while they were riding his pet giraffe/ferris wheel, but Michael had his reasons for being a freaky freaky dude. I mean, his dad probably touched him too, and for sure abused the hell out of him. I mean, the Jackson 5 were basically the original Menudo. There is a fine line between child labor and entertainment, people. And the Jacksons were Jehovah Witnesses for goodness sakes!!! Poor M.J. couldn't even celebrate his birthday so he had to take it to another level when he got grown. But I digress... I always had love for Michael, even during the later questionable years. The soft spoken shy boy with the world's worst case of arrested development. You had too many jams for me to have hate. JUST TRY TO DENY THRILLER/BAD/BEAT IT/ROCK WITH YOU/MAN IN THE MIRROR/BILLY JEAN! I dare you!!
Rest in Peace, Michael Jackson. I console myself knowing you and bubbles are finally together again in that Neverland Ranch in the sky wearing matching outfits. Gone but not forgotten. I leave you with this. Shaaamone.
No comments:
Post a Comment