Oh yeah, gotta be 18+ to read this shit.
List of things you can do at the age of 18:
- enlist in the armed forces
- operate heavy machinery
- Vote in general elections
- purchase cigarettes
- buy pornography
- read the meandering whining of some dumb cunt
I don't think I need to develop that joke further.
Incidentally I've posted more indecent content than this bint. At least my language is colorful enough to elicit a general warning. This blog is FUCKING NOTHING.
What's the last thing you bought?
Today's writer's block. She helpfully posted no answer.
I'm not even being sarcastic. That is genuinely good news.
My last purchase was Skyrim.
Here's a post entitled "A Gift People Overlooked".
Now I didn't read any of this post because, errr, I don't give a shit but I did read the last line:
Miss you Michael, Love you more xxx
Now call me naive but I just assumed there was someone important in her life named Michael whose silvery thread was cut too soon by the cruel mistresses of fate but had I bothered to read the first line (which I'm doing now, obviously):
Nobody knew on one fine day
The day of Michael Jackson's birth
It wasn't any normal day
A piece of Stardust fell to earth.
What, are you joking?
From just a child, he tried so hard
And worked to give his all
The people who watched him as he grew
Did know he could enthrall.
AN OVERLOOKED TALENT.
WEDGED COMFORTABLY BETWEEN MADONNA AND ELVIS IN TERMS OF RECORD SALES.
AN OVERLOOKED TALENT.
And still he shone, still he gleamed
A light from Heaven above
He tried to make this a better place
And tried to spread his love.
Oh he spread his love, all right.
Jesus Christ. You'd expect this post was made, what, the day he died or some shit?
No, it was posted November 23.
The November 23 that happened two days ago, that is.
Which might be the anniversary of his death, come to think of it.
Ah, didn't think of that one. Let's see.
Nope he died June 25, 2009.
Heh, crazies.
Incredibly this bitch constantly posts writer's blocks but never actually bothers to answer them. That's how I should post content from now on. HERE'S A BLOG.
NO FURTHER COMMENT.
Oh but here's one she commented on:
What do you want done with your body after you die?
No opinion on this other shit but how you want to die is carefully mapped out. All right, Crypt Keeper.
I want to be cremated. The cemeteries are getting over crowded, I don't fancy the idea of rotting very much and I like being warm lmaooo. My ashes..? Haven't really thought about that yet. God forbid if I outlive my kids my ashes would be next to them, otherwise probably with my hub when he goes.
Not sure what music I want played; I change my mind about that constantly. It'll either be something by MJ or Enigma, possibly something from both. "Speechless" by MJ, "The Screen Behind The Mirror" by Enigma.
When I die I am to be cremated. My funeral service will have a slow tolling on an iron bell.
Then they will play Hells Bells by AC/DC.
Then Choir of Destruction off the Dawn of War II Soundtrack. NO FAGGOTY EULOGIES, NO GAY JESUS CRAP.
If my loved ones are feeling especially religious I will accept a passage from The Odyssey.
...and it hurts so bad that I don't think I'll ever heal.
I can't write, I can't listen to your music, I can't watch you.
I wish we could see you dance once more.
Hear you sing once more.
See you smile once more.
I'm so lost now you're gone.
I love you so much more. Forever. No matter how much it hurts.
Another fucking post about Michael Jackson, Jesus.
Beat It was a great song don't get me wrong but let's not go fucking nuts, okay.
Oh God Michael Jackson fanfiction.
This is really happening.
Part 14.
This exists. I'm looking at it. I can't believe it's real but I'm looking at it. Have you ever seen something so unholy in your entire life?
Michael wandered across the grass, his hands buried in the pockets of his black pants. The sun was still out, although it was slowly starting to set; the warmth of the day still lingering in the air. The warm breeze tickled the leaves on the trees, the faint rustling noise pleasing to his ears. He casually strolled over towards a figure sitting on the grass.
Oh God why.
This is great writing, incidentally. Let me paint you a dewy picture of bygone ages with honeyed words.
Alisha sat cross-legged, her back to him. She had her left elbow leaning on her knee, her chin resting on that hand.
“Hey, girl,” he said, stopping behind her. “You ok?”
She smiled at him over her shoulder. “Yeah, you?”
Mmm, that is some great dialogue. Good at setting a scene and mood, good at dialogue.
It's like I'm staring into the face of Dante's work but surely, surely he has been dead for centuries!
Pulling his hands out of his pockets, he lowered himself to sit beside her, his shoulder leaning gently against hers. He nodded. “Yeah…I feel quite good.”
GOT ANY CHILDRENS?
Ah, good job, me. I resisted a direct reference to pedophilia for at least half the post.
You may recall earlier I made a double entendre about spreading love around but I didn't specifically say all over a little boy's face so I think I'm in the clear.
I will, however, make that joke now because it's too late to unring that bell.
Well I guess I could delete this paragraph and pretend it never happened but that would be pretty dishonest.
She sighed softly, typing rapidly with her right hand. “I hope this weather lasts for a few days yet; forecaster says it’s gonna rain soon.”
“The sky’s turning pink over there,” he told her, pointing to his right. “It’ll be a good day tomorrow.”
Prophet Michael.
Oddly this does sound like dialogue from that insipid movie he produced. You remember, the one where Michael Jackson chases a bunch of children around a meadow and then turns into a claymation rabbit and a car and a robot?
God he was on some great drugs.
I am truly envious that someone can get high enough to envisage a movie where Michael Jackson (the man, not him playing a character) chases unattended children around a meadow, then morphs into animals and machines and not only does no one tell him it's a bad idea he gets it straight into theaters.
and I know every member of the massive Michael Jackson Family that spreads across the globe is united in grief right now, no matter how far apart we are or what our differences and disagreements are. But in my wee corner of the world, I feel like nobody cares, nobody understands.
Post made: September 29.
As in a little less than two months ago. That September 29th.
Nobody realises the magic that Michael had.
Nobody appreciates the genius that created the music, the dance, the rhythm.
Nobody misses him anymore.
Nobody plays his music anymore, or talks about him.
I'm listening to Billie Jean as we speak, actually.
Oh, no it just ended and now it's Cocaine by Eric Clapton.
Man I have great taste in music.
Nobody cries for him.
Nobody's heart is breaking in the silence that is left behind.
Fucker had more money than some countries and got to get so high he made Moonwalker. I don't think anyone can mourn a life as glorious as that.
Does anybody even realise anymore that when Michael died, God turned off the stars in the sky?
All right, calm down.
Pretty sure the death of Beowulf in Beowulf wasn't this dramatic and that fucker was laid to rest on a burning Viking warship.
That he dimmed the sun down a little, and took the moon's beauty away? That the colours around us faded and lost their brightness..?
It doesn't feel like it.
There are tragic tales of star-crossed lovers that moved the gods themselves to tears that weren't this overdramatic.
I have literally read stories that end with Zeus shedding a single tear that weren't this overblown.
If You Can Hear Me Somewhere...
Just nod if you can hear me.
Is there anyone home?
Come on, come on-- now, now
I hear you're feeling down
Well I can ease your pain
Get you on your feet again
Relax, relax--
I'll need some information first
Just the basic facts
Can you show me where it hurts?
There is no pain, you are receding
A distant ship smoke on the horizon
You are only coming through in waves
Your lips move but I can't hear what you're saying
When I was a child I had a fever
My hands felt just like two balloons
Now I've got that feeling once again
I can't explain, you would not understand
This is not how I am
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII HAVE BECOME COMFORTABLY NUMB
...I hope you are happy.
I miss you so much...today's been particularly hard. My heart is breaking without you.
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII-IIIII-III have become comfortably numb
Okay, okay
Just a little pinprick
There'll be no more AAAAAAAARGH
But you may feel a little sick
Can you stand up?
I do believe it's working.
Good.
That'll keep you going through the show
Come on, it's time to go
I'm sorry, what's happening again?
Man this song has such a great guitar solo at the end. Michael Jackson never had a guitar solo like this.
I bet they didn't even bother to write this shit down. "Just play something cool at the end" and there you have it.
So I've noticed references to FFXIV have been dwindling in my posts but worry not, gentle viewers. I bring you this:
And this:
level 50 conjurer and level 50 marauder, oh yes.Up next: gladiator.
Man this blog is all fanfiction from here on out.
Fanfiction about Michael Jackson. THREE SWEEPING 30 PART EPICS.
I'm not even joking.
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