Today is Michael Jackson’s birthday and if you couldn’t tell by my previous blog posts, I’m a big fan.
I thought I would write some original Haikus to celebrate all the joy he brought to our lives. And as a plus, I’ve included what I think his reaction to each poem would be.
This seems like the right thing to do.
Poem 1: 'Thanks'
Thanks for great times
You sure were one of a kind
I loved Moonwalker.
Michael says: “Hey, no problem! I also liked Moonwalker!”
Poem 2: 'The Music'
Your music was great
The songs that keep us dancing
Moonwalker changed the (game)
***Note: You get one wild sixth word when writing Haikus. That’s the rule.
Michael says: “That’s not the rule, but hey thanks again! I really appreciate you saying that, though you didn’t have to repeat yourself because I already know how great Moonwalker is.”
Poem 3: 'Influence'
Moonwalker the film
Combined claymation and real
That shit blew my mind.
Michael says: “There’s really no need for profanity, but I get that you’re just passionate about the film. So thanks.”
Poem 4: ‘Innovator’
Robot with your face
A huge robot with your face
Who came up with that?!!?!??!?
Robot Michael says: “Um I don’t really remember but it was probably me. I actually have lots to do today so thanks for the Haikus but—”
POEM 5: 'Role Model'
SPEED DEMON? WOW.
I AIN’T NEVER GONNA SPEED
THANKS TO YOU, MY FRIEND
MY GOOD FRIEND MIKEY SAYS: “K.”
Poem 6: ‘King of Pop’
Michael, the legend
A true artist from above
Happy birthday, pal.
Michael says: “Hey that one wasn’t so ba—”
SHH MICHAEL JACKSON, PLEASE BE QUIET FOR POEM 7 WHICH IS CALLED ‘Talented’
MOONWALKER, MY GOD…
…MOTHER EFFING MOONWALKER…
…HAVE YOU GUYS SEEN IT?!
MICHAEL SAYS: …THAT I SHOULDN’T READ HIM MY POEMS ANYMORE.
So happy birthday to the King! And whatever you do, don’t go over the speed limit!
So what you’re saying is that he should have quit while he was ahead…
This weekend was insane. Had some big plans with a group of good friends here in the beautiful city of New York. Laughter and dancing, that’s what we did! Made memories that will last a lifetime!
I certainly didn’t stay in all weekend to watch the Every Simpsons Ever marathon on FXX. Nope! Instead, I had a crazy night out on the town with ma GIRLS!!
First we met at my apartment. “Your place is huge and party-friendly!” they declared. “Thanks, I know! So many people are here! It’s not just me! The Simpsons is not on TV, nor am I recording the episodes as I watch them live!” I replied.
We ‘poured it up’, as we say all the time, and got very drunk. Soon we were dancing to the hits of Beyonce and also Chingy, and certainly not See My Vest by Mr. Burns.
“Time to go!!” shouted Maude Fland— I mean Cool Stacy.
“Ok!!!!!!!!!!!!” I yelled joyfully, putting on my high heels and not finishing an entire pizza to myself as season 4 came to a close.
We arrived at da club and started clubbing so hard, which is standard for us. Hip movements, foot stomps, back AND front grinding with all the hottest dude-guys. I was truly feeling half Joe Camel and a third Fonzarelli.
No wait… no. No, I was feeling so Fancy…you already know. That’s what I meant. Yes… that is how I felt.
“Hey, nice crop top!” said a stranger. “OK,” I said as I didn’t have a rushed shower to avoid missing the outcome of Who Shot Mr. Burns.
“Say, who’s up for some recreational drug use?!” I screamed with glee. “All of us!” they replied. “We’re young adults who live fast, after all!” We high-fived as I proceeded to not send them a snapchat picture of my face painted as Marge.
We drug’d it up, poppin’ Molly to and fro. As I looked around at the crowd, I definitely heard no one shout “the finger thing means the taxes!” No, instead it was just hoots, hollers and youthful slang. Classic Crowd-foolery.
Finally the weekend came to an end and it was time to go home, a place I hadn’t been solely localized to for the past 48 hours. We stumbled back on our hind legs, in no way similar to a couple of Rory Calhouns. When I arrived, I did not say to myself “now I’ll eat the bagels and pie I had delivered from a block away so I wouldn’t miss the Love-Matic Grandpa sequence.”
As I drifted off to sleep I thought, “Hey Chels, good for you. Good for you for keeping your social life strong and not devoting the entire weekend to a show that essentially shaped your childhood POV, family dynamic and future sense of humour.
And I said “Thanks, Brain.”
(Oh and on the plus side, I did get someone’s number! His name was Bort. It may work out if I can get past the fact that many of my relatives are also named Bort.)