Days I’m glad I’m not a celebrity

Today, for one. Can Michael Jackson and Farrah both have died on the same day?? If I was a celebrity in America today, I’d be holding my breath till 12:01a.m.

Farrah’s gonna take it – er, on the chin – one last time by life. If Jackson is dead (it's still Breaking News), his story will eclipse hers like nothing I can think of since John Belushi and Ayn Rand both died the same week back in 82. Ayn Who? “Atlas What?”

Sorry, Miss Rand.

I’m sure the Twittersphere is abuzz. Oh, I can’t not. I have to go troll. Now how do I turn this goddamn Twizzler thing on?

Oh look – Twitter is down. The Iranian Revolution didn’t swamp it, but Michael Jackson’s death does. Sorry huddled Iranian masses, yearning to breathe free... Your lifeline to the outside world has been cut by a (let’s face it, former-) celebrity death.

And oh yeah, sorry again Farrah... Still wish you hadn’t done that creepy “Watch Me Die” reality-TV show, though. Personally, when I start to go seriously downhill, I want to do like the Indians used to do. Wander quietly away from the camp and go smoke peyote down by the river till the gods come to call me home. It would be sure to get shitty ratings, which for me would be the whole idea.

And this post was supposed to be all about it being my 500th post!!

*Apologies to my sensitive readers for being such an insensitive prick. I’m sure I’ll come to regret this post’s shallow tenor in the days to come.