Shorts.
Michael Jackson is dead. Since this news, I've met quite a few people who say they were fond of him and his music. I stopped listening to his music by happenstance before the rumors began. I am indifferent about the whole matter.
I did, however, catch a blurb of his funeral/parade on the TV in the breakroom at work. So many people gathered to commemorate an idol of theirs. There were quite a few people in the crowd who were excitedly waving at the camera as though to say "HAY EVERYBODY IM ON TEEVEE LOL." I suppose it's a natural response when met with a camera that you know will be nationally broadcast.
As the casket carrying the two-week old corpse of the King of Pop slowly traveled down the street, an idea hit me: What if Michael Jackson's fist punched out from inside the coffin and he rose from the dead and performed the dance from the Thriller music video? That'd be awesome/horrible/hilarious and, above all, appropriate.
He's only freshly-dead, and there are many rumors about him still really being alive or haunting parts of his home. I suppose there is still ample time and opportunity for this to really happen.
...
In other news, I have purchased a power window motor for my passenger window. My passenger window won't roll up all the way, so, whenever it rains, the inside of my car gets a drink of water. It's been raining a lot here in Johnson City lately and quite heavily so.
I got home from work and opened the box containing the power motor. "It looks simple enough. Let's check that Haines Manual for how to install this sucker. It's been raining all day, so I wanna get this done ASAP. Where the hell is that Haines Manual?"
I sought my Haines Manual only to discover that I had left it in my car for several days in the back seat on the passenger side.
The manual is not so much a manual anymore but, rather, a utopia of tree rot.
People tell me I'm smart. I tell them that I am amazingly stupid. They all say they find that hard to believe. I offer the above story as evidence supporting my claim. :P
...
A lady at work comes in to donate infrequently. Every time she does, she flatters me about how handsome I am and, on several occasions, tried to hook me up with her daughter whom I've never met.
That's awesome, because, whenever an old lady flirts with me and offers me her daughter, I think "that's not weird at all."
She also blatantly claimed, today, that another girl was flirting with me. I asked for evidence and all she could offer was that the girl was talkative and friendly with me.
"So, does that mean all the dudes in here are flirting with me too? I should hope not..."
Silly people.
I did, however, catch a blurb of his funeral/parade on the TV in the breakroom at work. So many people gathered to commemorate an idol of theirs. There were quite a few people in the crowd who were excitedly waving at the camera as though to say "HAY EVERYBODY IM ON TEEVEE LOL." I suppose it's a natural response when met with a camera that you know will be nationally broadcast.
As the casket carrying the two-week old corpse of the King of Pop slowly traveled down the street, an idea hit me: What if Michael Jackson's fist punched out from inside the coffin and he rose from the dead and performed the dance from the Thriller music video? That'd be awesome/horrible/hilarious and, above all, appropriate.
He's only freshly-dead, and there are many rumors about him still really being alive or haunting parts of his home. I suppose there is still ample time and opportunity for this to really happen.
...
In other news, I have purchased a power window motor for my passenger window. My passenger window won't roll up all the way, so, whenever it rains, the inside of my car gets a drink of water. It's been raining a lot here in Johnson City lately and quite heavily so.
I got home from work and opened the box containing the power motor. "It looks simple enough. Let's check that Haines Manual for how to install this sucker. It's been raining all day, so I wanna get this done ASAP. Where the hell is that Haines Manual?"
I sought my Haines Manual only to discover that I had left it in my car for several days in the back seat on the passenger side.
The manual is not so much a manual anymore but, rather, a utopia of tree rot.
People tell me I'm smart. I tell them that I am amazingly stupid. They all say they find that hard to believe. I offer the above story as evidence supporting my claim. :P
...
A lady at work comes in to donate infrequently. Every time she does, she flatters me about how handsome I am and, on several occasions, tried to hook me up with her daughter whom I've never met.
That's awesome, because, whenever an old lady flirts with me and offers me her daughter, I think "that's not weird at all."
She also blatantly claimed, today, that another girl was flirting with me. I asked for evidence and all she could offer was that the girl was talkative and friendly with me.
"So, does that mean all the dudes in here are flirting with me too? I should hope not..."
Silly people.