King of Pop
Got lost there for awhile, but today I decided to catch up on the news a bit.
The King of Pop turned 50 and decided to spend the happy day watching cartoons with his kids - well, at least they're his kids. I heard the song Beat It the other day and couldn't help but think back to being in a club, dancing (yes, you should see me dance) with a pretty girl who was looking over my head, waiting for her boyfriend to come in. The song finished and I Beat It to the front door. Her loss.
Anyway, the whole Michael Jackson story is just too freaking bizarre and of course it has been covered so many times, but the last time I saw him he looked like an old and frail, with every inch of his skin covered and an oxygen mask on his face.
My brother, John, came up with the line - "Only in America can a poor, black kid from the ghetto rise out of the ashes to become a successful white woman."
The hurricane season continues. They're saying Ike is troublesome. All I know is that I may never get to mow the lawn this weekend. What an inconvenience for me.
Anybody else sick of the presidential race yet? I know more about Sarah Palin than I do about some of my cousins. I really wish it wasn't a mud-slinging - "he sucks, I don't" argument, but I guess that's just how it goes. Can't catch a sound bite these days without one of the candidates telling you that the other one is lying - leads me to believe that they're all lying. Two men claim to be Jesus - one of 'em must be wrong. (A little Dire Straits there for the older crowd).
I spent the day hanging around the house with the wife and kids today. We laughed, there were a few minor disagreements, I wrestled with the boys, and caught another shitty love story movie.
Nowhere else I'd rather be.
The King of Pop turned 50 and decided to spend the happy day watching cartoons with his kids - well, at least they're his kids. I heard the song Beat It the other day and couldn't help but think back to being in a club, dancing (yes, you should see me dance) with a pretty girl who was looking over my head, waiting for her boyfriend to come in. The song finished and I Beat It to the front door. Her loss.
Anyway, the whole Michael Jackson story is just too freaking bizarre and of course it has been covered so many times, but the last time I saw him he looked like an old and frail, with every inch of his skin covered and an oxygen mask on his face.
My brother, John, came up with the line - "Only in America can a poor, black kid from the ghetto rise out of the ashes to become a successful white woman."
The hurricane season continues. They're saying Ike is troublesome. All I know is that I may never get to mow the lawn this weekend. What an inconvenience for me.
Anybody else sick of the presidential race yet? I know more about Sarah Palin than I do about some of my cousins. I really wish it wasn't a mud-slinging - "he sucks, I don't" argument, but I guess that's just how it goes. Can't catch a sound bite these days without one of the candidates telling you that the other one is lying - leads me to believe that they're all lying. Two men claim to be Jesus - one of 'em must be wrong. (A little Dire Straits there for the older crowd).
I spent the day hanging around the house with the wife and kids today. We laughed, there were a few minor disagreements, I wrestled with the boys, and caught another shitty love story movie.
Nowhere else I'd rather be.
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