Eeeewwww.

I smell puke, but I don't know where it's coming from. I smelled my clothes. I looked at my shoes, but nothing. Wait, maybe it's the carpet. Hold on while I take a sniff. No, it's not the carpet and it's not my chair. Where in God's name could it be coming from? Does rotting carcass smell like puke? Maybe there's a dead mouse in the wall or something.

I've not been following the Michael Jackson molestation case or anything, but it really makes me wonder about the parents involved in this entire thing. If Wacko Jacko has gone diddling with little boys, he should definitely be locked up. There's no excuse for his actions if that proves to be the case. However, considering this is something he's already gone to court over, why in the hell would parents continue to let their young sons spend time alone with this man? No matter what, he's a freak. He's a freak with or without the pedophilia. He owns the elephant man, sleeps in an air chamber and bleaches his skin. That's freakish behavior, folks. What could these parents possibly think to gain by encouraging a relationship between him and their children? Really? What? If I were to see Michael Jackson walking down the street, first I'd put my hands over my daughter's eyes because the sight of him would probably scare her since he looks like a walking skeleton with a bad Delta Burke wig on his head. What I definitely wouldn't do, would be to stop him and say, "Hey, Mike. Would you like to take my kid to your ranch and play with her for the afternoon?" Although, apparently, she wouldn't quite be doing it for him anyway.

Let's all face facts, Michael Jackson is CRAZY. He's crazy. You can listen to his music and enjoy it, but you don't have to pretend he's not crazy to do it. There's no rule that says crazy people can't be talented. In fact, considering the link between creativity and depression, the odds are most talented people out there are crazy. Not meant as a slam to all you talented people out there, just relating the statistics. So, you know, get over that part. Just because you enjoy the talent, doesn't mean you have to deny the craziness. Hey, which reminds me, what ever happened to that stop the insanity chick? What was her name? Susan Powter or something? Where'd she go?