MJ’s death actually devastated me. Seriously, after listening to his music endlessly all Friday morning, to the point of wanting to vomit, I even had a little cry outside.
After pondering momentarily whether I should throw my ghd in the bath. And die in style[r]. Geddit?
I know I’m despressed, but seriously. Only weird I-Feel-Like-I-Knew-Him fans cry. Although that said, when Princess Diana kicked the bucket, I was as equally distraught.
Problem with MJ, as legendary as he is, crying about a man whose life spiralled into a bankrupt, molestive mess, makes it only that much more tragic.
I mean:
1) He was a kiddie-fiddler.
2) He was weirdo.org/kingoffreaks
3) He had plastic body parts
4) He was a white black guy
He really was odd. But take that away and you’re left with a musical genius who ‘touched us all. Some more than others,’ as a friend put it.
Anyway I was broken. So when the Michael Jackson jokes started rolling in, I was but a whimpering mess, glad for the child-like humour (which right there, Michael himself would approve), with which the jokes distracted me from the death that celebrityville seems to have become rather apt at.
‘Michael Jackson isn’t dead. He is having a stroke at a children’s hospital.’
‘MJ funeral hailed as a Tupperware Party’
‘His heart attack was caused when he found out BoyzIIMen was a band and not a delivery service.’
‘Michael Jackson has cancelled all his upcoming dates. They were James (aged 9) and Thomas (aged 10).’
Then, imagine my surprise when I went to a 30th in Braamfontein on Saturday, to have one of the best nights I have had in forever in Joburg.
Was Va va va Vintage – so any excuse to pull out the blue sequined 80s shoulder-padded monstrosity that is the very cornerstone of my dress-up cupboard. Added legwarmers and other hideous paraphernalia transformed me into the Jane Fonda I’ve always dreamed to be.
Let’s face it. The 80s is the new 90s, and the 90s is the new 00s. If they 80s wasn’t cool in the 80s, it certainly fucken is now.
It was held at Kitchener’s Bar in Braamfontein – seriously a little gem. One of my newest favourite places to go – and the DJ dedicated a full hour just to Jackson choonage.
I went absolutely beserk. Everyone did.
It was like a flashmob of moonwalkers (which evidentally occurred in London on Friday afternoon. Flashmobbing Twitterers gathered at Liverpool Station for a giant moonwalk en masse for the tragic star.)
I just boogied and boogied to MJ, completely lost in a throng of other Jacko fans, on the dancefloor for hours. I had an absolute blast.
And then knocked over a vase full of roses with my giant handbag. Which is neither here nor there. But perhaps a snitch embarrassing.
Sunday I took my French friend around Newtown to show her a few things that maybe non-Saffricans would appreciate.
Perhaps even, the post trip depression I starting to ease ever so slightly. If only Michael didn’t have to up and die.
16 comments:
I am REALLY upset that MJ up and died on us - seriously, what's that about? It's not cool...not cool at all.
I shall honour his memory by wearing white socks and badly fitting black trousers for the rest of the week.
The King is Dead, Long Live The King!
*sigh*
Vimbai - I know. Long live his little white questionably-freaky gloves, his hair, his ability to scream at high pitch without breaking any glasses....sigh :(
I'm tempted to say MJ isn't dead, but alive and well and hiding out in... But then I realise he would never be able to hide.
He was a musical master, no argument there.
What's with the Richard Hammond poll? Though admittedly, he's not bad looking for a Brit...
Monkigirl - I am hopelessly and utterly in love with Hammond. It's been like this for a while, but never anything I've actioned.
Now it's time to put plans together. He's gorgeous and funny. And married. Naturally.
Sigh. As for MJ - he's managed to hide rather well since the last molestation battle, so you might be right :)
Ah yes, the effortless spikey hair, that cute lopsided smile, the way he nonchalantly stands talking with one hand in his pocket. The whole British thing... I hear you. He's just a bit short.
Dude you could even crop off a further two inches, make me eat spotted dick in front of him and I'd still be completely and utterly infatuated.;)
Mmm... Yummy boy! Just found a cool pic of Mr Hammond on thecreme.wordpress.com.
Is there any truth to the scary rumours that MJ is going to be plasticised instead of buried?!
fancyfairy - why hello there! Yeah I heard MJ's funeral was going to a flashmobbery of Tupperware enthusiasts :) Not sure though, in all honesty, is he being embalmed maybe? ;)
The Hamster is so devilishly good-looking, I think he may even usurp Jake Gyllenhaal in my humble opinion :)
Don't be too dejected about Michael. There are still more than enough spare Jacksons to go around.
Regarding the Hammond fetish, you do realise that he isn't actually a hamster...you wouldn't be allowed to keep him in a cage in your room..well, bondage games not withstanding.
Rev - isn't he the most gorgeous hunk of spunk ever? (Hammond, not Jackson)
C'mon even as a man you have to find the smae rodentally-named man attractive.
Admit it, he's hot.
He was hot for about 15 seconds when he had that drag racer accident, but then they put the flames out.
hahaha :)
Shit imagine the loss if he had died?
Dude, to add to your patented 'death is the new black' regime: Joost vdW is in hospital for a stroke as well.
WTF is crappening?
Well, now that MJ is gone gone, who is gonna stroke him?? Steve Hofmeyer??
Touch, pause, engage!
I just wanna know if he got to take the white glove with him 6 feet underground. Surely they couldn't separate him from the glove?
Unless it IS true about him being recycled.
Stick the real MJ in Madam Tussauds
hahaha, exactly :)
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