Michael Jackson Phone Home
To a nation in mourning over the untimely passing of a Pop Legend:
Re. Fucking. Lax.
Would you cry like this if your Magic Bullet Blender died? Unless you had formed an illicit (and may I say dangerous) relationship based on its riveting vibrations, then no madam, you would not. That’s because the Magic Bullet Blender, although still able to make us feel something, is a machine, and we don’t cry over machines.
Narrator Voice Overs
I would not, in fact, “be the world’s greatest detective.”
I know I’ve claimed to have superhuman abilities of observation and deduction, but I’ve also claimed my bladder could hold a full gallon of urine, and that my blood contained the cure for HIV. So I want to feel special, sue me.
Anyway, I would suck at being a detective because without someone telling me exactly what’s going on, my brain automatically invents theories that are, as a Perkins waitress once told me, “full of bat-shit crazy.”
Quick example: I once reasoned, in all seriousness, that a bird must have flown into my apartment and stolen the last boston cream doughnut. My main piece of evidence was that I lived on the 4th floor, and cats cannot fly.
