Jacko Lives

Michael Jackson lives.

He's in the Caribbean with Tupac and Biggie, being hand-fed grapes by Jacko's former chimp Bubbles. They're doing body shots off Anna Nichole's limp, drug-induced body. Ed McMahon is announcing the event with a microphone that isn't plugged in. Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeere's Jacko!

Steve McNair is there too. Well, his fat head anyway. He's actually dead. You can't survive four bullets. That's real.

Cardiac arrest? Please, way too easy to fake that. He fakes being white for how long? He faked being interested in women for how long?

The way I see it, he's finally getting some color on that skull he's been wearing the past couple years. Face it, he wouldn't be merely as creepy a public figure if he didn't dye his skin white and get over 1,000 cosmetic surgeries. Perhaps aspiring to be the living version of Skeletor wasn't the best idea.

Now, he's at peace. Not in a coffin, but climbing palm trees and playing dominos with Tupac's baby. They've created the most elaborate recording studio, which they're using to write the highest anticipated album of all time, set to drop Spring of 2023.

Of course, I say all of this because me and Jacko were tight and you should believe everything I say. At least, I'm reputable, not like those other dudes on television, dropping notes and tidbits that TMZ is picking up and flushing out like a bad burrito.

Suffice to say, I was lying about the whole living on the island thing. I don't really know that. It's possible, though, considering the kind of life he actually did live. He did have a pet monkey, kids sleeping in his bed, change his skin color, and write Thriller.

That's why I let the perpetual media overload on MJ cool off before writing a blog; it's alway tough to see how far and to what extent people will go to get a story about somebody that's dead, surpassing respect along the way. At no point did any medium stop and ask questions of how credible people were. I saw some guy claiming he was MJ's friend talk about his drug use. That's a pretty incriminating piece of information that he's finally very willing to let people know over national television. Some friend? No, probably a dude that never knew Michael that well.

The worst part of Michael Jackson dying was that we had to see his ugly, creepy face on television non-stop. I don't have fond, heart-wrenching memories of the iconic pop star. I don't care enough about musicians or actors to be moved when they die. Unless I know you, I probably won't. I don't need to be spoon fed information about why I should care.

My favorite Michael Jackson moment wasn't even something he did, instead, it was South Park. If those guys died tomorrow, I'd probably cry. MJ, though? Nah.


Breakdown on All-Muslim Wedding:
1. Wedding last night was exceptionally interesting and fun and filling. We never stopped eating it seemed and the event became more of an eating challenge than an actual wedding.
2. Besides seeing my friend tie the knot, my top 2 moments of the night: (A) Friend Jon walks up to us at a window, looking down onto the ground floor, some 300 feet below, and sees a farm with animals. His remark? Yep, "So are we going to be sacrificing any animals tonight?" (B) Me and friend, Jay, get awesome sun burns on face riding a BMW convertable down to NYC. We joke about how we'll look like we've eaten Volcano tacos. We get to the place and while we're waiting a dude comes over and asks if we ate any Volcano tacos. We laugh.
3. There is a Chinatown in Queens and it far surpasses the one in Manhatten in both dinginess, safety and size. They also have Flushing Mall, which is more like a flea market than a mall. They have a place where you can get harp lessons. Haven't you always wondered where people learn the harp?
4. I've never been less disappointed by not seeing a crepe station. The dessert room was out of control... Waffle Bar + Ice Cream Bar + Fondue = homemade pleated pants.
5. Spanish people love when you try and talk spanish to them. The dude at this little bodega in queens was pumped when I dropped a buenos dias on his face.
6. I created a social experiment on the highway. I tried to see which demographic of truck drivers responded to my "honk the horn" motions and which didn't. The whites were terrible and barely responded, while spanish people didn't comprende what I was doing (maybe flipping them off? I don't know.). African Americans were emphatically awesome at honking the horn and for reasons I don't know. All I know is it made my day and I'm pretty sure it made their days too. They seemed like they were having such a good time.