Billie Jean and Paris

The bass line is the protagonist in Billie Jean. The melody of Billie Jean has always been a haunted thing that seeped in through the paranoid cracks of Jackson’s fame, but the bass line arrived fully formed and delivered a first-person account about the way people danced on the floor and around. Upon Michael Jackson’s death, the familiar rhythm of this song was converted into a vapor that hovers in the background of every televised tribute.

People always told me be careful of what you do
And don't go around breaking young girls' hearts
And mother always told me be careful of who you love
And be careful of what you do 'cause the lie becomes the truth

-- -- --




The young girl with the broken heart who has captured the world’s attention is Michael’s daughter, Paris. In an unscripted moment of heartbreak, Paris told us that MJ was Daddy. I never saw him in that role before, but that is what little girl tears do – they wash away complexities and will erode almost any jaded opinion.

Mojopoll: Life's A Beach

The results from the last Mojopoll (What is your favorite time of day?) indicate chronic insomnia. Me too! At night I can turn off my filters and contaminate the Interwebs in peace. However, I also enjoy mornings because I don’t need much sleep. Like you, I am uncommunicative until I have coffee and the resulting bowel movement, but after that we can be friends again.

The new poll (on the right) was inspired by a moron practicing Kung Phooey at the Indiana Dunes on Sunday. I’m going to call him Chi Chi the Cheetah, which may or may not mean he is directly related to this hot mess on Wikipedia.

Black belt? Are you shitting me?

Chi Chi was working on his martial arts moves at the beach with props that included his Okinawan kobud weapons (nunchucks, as they say in junior high school), some knives and daggers. If he was any good I might have tipped him a fiver, but Chi Chi was all thumbs. He was smacking himself in the head, dropping stuff and tripping. The lifeguards were not concerned but – gee – I was. I’m weird like that, when clumsy poopheads are running full-tilt-boogie with sharp objects in their hands, while little babies are trying to build sandcastles.

Obviously, I had to take a picture. Chi Chi hissed at me, but the other guy on Wikipedia says he likes audiences. On a related vanity website, you can view videos.

After the photo op, I asked a park cop if nunchucks and daggers were allowed on the beach. “Absolutely not!” she said. I pointed to Chi Chi and, eventually, a big fat park cop came by in a go-cart to shoo him away.

According to Wiki some people feel it is important to be a “...freedom fighter who fights for the freedom of expression when and where the audience exists.” If he keeps throwing freedom around like that someone is going to lose an eye!



I don’t know what is wrong with me. I never woke up one day and thought about working on my Black Mamba death squad moves on the shores of Lake Michigan. Usually I just bring snacks and tanning lotion.

A Happy Day In Americaland

Mojopost is taking a long weekend to partake of US Independence Day festivities. In my country, July 4th begins on the 3rd and ends on the 6th, so that all residents in the US will have an opportunity to celebrate our freedom from those limey Brits with poor dental hygiene. Whew - bullet dodged!

This Independence Day has value-added significance in that US citizens will, for the first time ever, lustfully worship before a golden statue of our favorite unicorn, Pres. Barack Obama. There will be Kool-Aid, hopium and Hawaiian birth certificate dispensers on every corner! Rev. Wright, say AMEN before I pop!

I will be celebrating Independence Day weekend at Taste of Chicago, checking out the 85th Army Band, and enjoying poop-your-pants-loud fireworks over Lake Michigan. After a little sleep, I’m going to the Indiana Dunes because it is one of the better places to be if one does not have an ocean handy while in the Midwest. If I see any Michael Jackson mourners in Gary, I’ll tell them you said “hi”.

Let’s get this BBQ jacked up, kids. Hit me back with some of your favorite summertime songs.

George Washington

Moby Prick

Ug. I don’t even want to bring this up in a family-oriented blog but I must. I need to vent about my neighborhood non-bathing, muttering, crazy/scary guy who was playing with his bits and pieces at the bus stop the other day. We will call him Moby Prick.

There I was, traveling in my car with goodwill ambassadors from another country. At the stoplight on the corner, Moby Prick was sitting on a bench inside of a bus shelter staring painfully, with animal longing, at a young lady seated to his left. She may have been 16 years old – maybe less. This could have been like any other day except for the fact that Moby was manipulating his region, which was fully extended inside of his filthy sweatpants. It was rather obvious that he was setting up things for display, to catch the attention of the young lady.

I don’t know how she kept her eyes fixed on the CVS sign across the street because the thing in Moby’s hand was epic. Like a monster! And what did I do? I split when the light changed.

I’ve gone over a few heroic, righteous should-have scenarios in my head because I lost an opportunity when it presented itself. I’m mad that I didn’t do anything constructive the other day to help the girl at the bus stop. Moby Prick escaped and I am Ishmael.

What would you have done differently? I’m sorry, but I just don’t see me calling 911 to report a homeless erection. If I see this guy again, and that is likely because he lives at that bus stop, is there something I can do when he Queequeg’s his harpoon?

Sorry I'm Late

I've been tardy. I spent the weekend entertaining goodwill ambassadors from Venezuela, and they gave me chocolate! These people are, perhaps, my most favorite goodwill ambassadors in the history of ever. Not only did they arrive with candy, but there was coffee, too! Wheeee, I'm all kinds of buzzed!

Therefore, this blog will be off-line until Thursday morning. Imma crash hard when the sugar wears off.

See you!