8:10 p.m. - 2009-06-25
Am I totally freaked out or what?
So.

A lot of death lately. I try to think of Death as the way Terry Pratchett portrays him.

Farrah Fawcett. She was apparently the bane of my Aunt's existence at Uni I think, but it might have been earlier. Apparently all the boys thought that Farrah was The One and all of the girls that they knew were chopped horse meat. I wonder what Auntie is thinking now. I'll wager that she's long ago learnt that every generation of boys will idolise some famous girl, but he'll jump at the chance of a real girl naked. Even a real girl to take to the cinema. It might be that young girls are simply too sensitive for boys. Or baboons as a friend's daughter calls them. However, she's just seen the light. The light that shines over a certain boy that spells out "Cuuuute" in glowing letters.

Now Michael Jackson. That freaks me out indeed. He is a childhood memory. I remember how thrilling the (Oh, look at that a pun popped out!) the Thriller years were! It was so exciting those times. He was so different. Then the fall, the disgrace, the disgust. The flailing, the trying to come back. Only just recently his children (and I use the word "his" very loosely) were photographed without masks. They look pure Cauc. I'd be gobsmacked if DNA were to prove that he was actually a father. And here is the horrible part of me. I keep remembering a SNL skit that had MJ and Lisa Marie all love-and-doves and they'd kiss after Lisa Marie had chanted out "Yum, Yum, Gimme Some".

You know, one day it will be my turn. But do you know, I've decided that the minute I learn that I am terminal, I am having my funeral. While I am still alive and can participate. Life is love is joy is keep trying is laughing. It is hope.

(Later) As bedbunny has said, not to forget Ed McMahon!

Ecks Oh to you all!

Cavalry - Apache