No! Stop it! Stop it NOW! All you fuckers on the interwebs crying your little eyes out because Michael Jackson died need an ass kicking reality check! If I read one more heartfelt, poorly strung together electronic "note" to this chuckle head, I'm going super fly TNT on someone's ass!
I'm telling you, I'm about to unload!
I'm going against FWTC orders, here. It was proclaimed by our illustrious **cough, bullshit** head writer, Tresckow, that we were not to dignify the Jackson house of weird. But, I can't let it go any longer. I've reached my limit. Where the fuck have all of you been for the past fifteen years???!!!!!
Attempting to breathe life into Paul McCartney's career.
Lending his voice to The Simpsons.
And, to a much lesser extent, Weird Al.
OK, here's a "for instance." We all like Wayne Brady, right? That "Don't Forget the Lyrics" and whatever other shit he does.. funny, in a Flip Wilson-Lite sort of way. Well, imagine he started going around grabbing little boys' crotches and punching elderly women in the va-jay-jay? Would you still bow at the mediocreness that is Wayne Brady? On second thought, I hate Wayne Brady. That was a shitty example. Strike that from the record.
The more psycho of MJ's fans have a love and mind baffling obsession science will never understand. But, I want to help them out. I took it upon myself to help soothe their sad, trouble minds and spirits. These are excerpts from the official MJJ News Twitter page. Names have been left out to protect the dimwitted.
"Thank you, Michael for bringing magic into this world. you are the living proof magic exists."
In closing, MJ fanatics moved beyond reason and blinded by insanity, I hope you get anally raped with a cactus.
Sincerely,
Roode
No. Even this is no excuse.
I'm going to actually agree with something Tresckow said. The Michael Jackson everyone is wetting their pants over DIED A DECADE AND A HALF AGO! I'm not going to talk about his transformation into a British Museum exhibit. That's not even sporting anymore. Quite frankly, that shit just weirds me out. I won't even pretend to understand the deep emotional problems one must have to slowly mummify himself over a period of years. I need a hot shower with lots of Brillo pads just thinking about this Edgar Allen Poe-esq mind stomp.
I still can't scrub my mind's eye. Damn it!
Sometime after Thriller the nightmare began. This part of his life reads like Tales from the Crypt, only without that warm and fuzzy feeling. Come on! Do I have to spell it out for you? Fine. You made me do this; rampant child molestation. Not even the most devoted worshipper at the alter of the Gloved One can ignore these hellish stories. "But, Roode, we all know the media sensationalizes everything. " OK, I'll give you that. But, after a decade, when the stories, allegations, and crying children keep turning up... something's rotten in the state of Denmark.
Look, I'm not saying I'm glad the guy died, per say. All I 'm saying is that it's probably a good thing for children everywhere that he's a future worm feast. On second thought, being already stuffed and chemically coated like a Wyomingite's prairie dog kill , I don't think any of that is going to return to the earth.
Missing: One King of Pop.
The terrifying and outright sphincter clenching stories began to stack up. Sure, we were quick to dismiss it when the 1993 accusations rolled around. Who wouldn't want to get some of MJ's sweet, sweet golden empire? Right? Even though the story made you throw up a little in your mouth. It was just bullshit? Right? Those fuckers extorted $2 - $50 million from our music icon. Right?
Then, in 2002, that Berlin bugaboo occurred. Remember? MJ decided to take his child for a brisk dangle over his hotel room's balcony. Alright, the FWTC has an ardent belief that there is no way, no how this freak show contributed his crazy riddled DNA to any woman This lends a whole new truth to the line, "the kid is not my son." Despite that, we could almost let this one slide. Parents have done more fucked up things. Ask Alec Baldwin's kid.
Yeah, we know this kid is going to end up a crack whore or on a reality show. Maybe both.
Everyone in Hollywood knows that PR and Scrooge McDuck sized swimming pools of money will buy you a mining cartload of credibility and bullshit. How do we know the kid didn't ask for it? How do we know the kid wasn't trying to commit suicide? Deep down inside, we all know if that was our "dad" we'd try to take a face plant into some unforgiving concrete too.
Then, in 2002, that Berlin bugaboo occurred. Remember? MJ decided to take his child for a brisk dangle over his hotel room's balcony. Alright, the FWTC has an ardent belief that there is no way, no how this freak show contributed his crazy riddled DNA to any woman This lends a whole new truth to the line, "the kid is not my son." Despite that, we could almost let this one slide. Parents have done more fucked up things. Ask Alec Baldwin's kid.
Yeah, we know this kid is going to end up a crack whore or on a reality show. Maybe both.
Everyone in Hollywood knows that PR and Scrooge McDuck sized swimming pools of money will buy you a mining cartload of credibility and bullshit. How do we know the kid didn't ask for it? How do we know the kid wasn't trying to commit suicide? Deep down inside, we all know if that was our "dad" we'd try to take a face plant into some unforgiving concrete too.
"Fuck it! I'm jumping. Let me go you lunatic!
Then, in 2005 the shit really hit the fan. MJ was indicted for four counts of molesting a minor, four counts of intoxicating a minor, one count of abduction, and one count of conspiring to hold the boy and his family captive at his 2700-acre Neverland Ranch compound. Need a refresher? Look this shit up. He was found not guilty, ultimately (not to be confused with "innocent"). Although we all agreed that he should stick to grabbing his own junk. Still, we started to wonder. What the fuck was going on in Neverland? It ended up as the "Hotel California" for pre-teen boys. The tip off was the word "compound." Nothing good is ever associated with that word. It's either connected to David Koresh caliber cult leaders or comedic World War II based sitcoms.
Despite the unprecedented level of skull obliterating creepy, there is a legion of people out there that just won't hear any of it. They insist that the 50 pound corpse in that gilded casket is the same red leather jacketed, pop'n and lock'n music Ayatollah. To them, there simply is no difference, whatsoever.
Despite the unprecedented level of skull obliterating creepy, there is a legion of people out there that just won't hear any of it. They insist that the 50 pound corpse in that gilded casket is the same red leather jacketed, pop'n and lock'n music Ayatollah. To them, there simply is no difference, whatsoever.
Attempting to breathe life into Paul McCartney's career.
Lending his voice to The Simpsons.
And, to a much lesser extent, Weird Al.
OK, here's a "for instance." We all like Wayne Brady, right? That "Don't Forget the Lyrics" and whatever other shit he does.. funny, in a Flip Wilson-Lite sort of way. Well, imagine he started going around grabbing little boys' crotches and punching elderly women in the va-jay-jay? Would you still bow at the mediocreness that is Wayne Brady? On second thought, I hate Wayne Brady. That was a shitty example. Strike that from the record.
The more psycho of MJ's fans have a love and mind baffling obsession science will never understand. But, I want to help them out. I took it upon myself to help soothe their sad, trouble minds and spirits. These are excerpts from the official MJJ News Twitter page. Names have been left out to protect the dimwitted.
"Thank you, Michael for bringing magic into this world. you are the living proof magic exists."
- Magic like, hide the pale weasel and Abracadabra! Your childhood innocence has DISAPPEARED! isn't really magic at all. Lots of these magic tricksters are serving time in maximum security prisons; getting their asses handed to them every day by skinheads that show it a good time first.
- First off, unless your soul was a 12 year old boy, he wasn't speaking to you. Second off, it wasn't the "soul" he was singing to.
- Wow. Moving.
- Dude, really? Like a father to you? Are you fucking serious? A kid that grew up with a dad that huffed paint and got drunk off turpentine before swinging at him like the word "Everlast" was printed on his forehead had it better. Pops just kicked his kid's ass, he didn't fondle it.
- You're an idiot.
- You are fucking turbo nuts. The media and society will try, sentence, and execute a priest if even a hint of shenanigans is heard. But, put a cosmetic surgery addicted fucktard in the same situation you ass clowns can't run to his defense fast enough.
In closing, MJ fanatics moved beyond reason and blinded by insanity, I hope you get anally raped with a cactus.
Sincerely,
Roode
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