Pillow Talk

My husband who hates farm chores told me last night that I need to move on: Michael Jackson is dead and I need to focus on something other than how many needle marks MJ had in his neck due to Demerol injections.

I know my husband was kidding when he told me this, but I cannot blame him for feeling this way. He covered many celebrity trials while he was a reporter and even covered Michael’s molestation trial for a few days. He's a jaded former newspaperman.

I didn't have much appreciation for Michael when he was alive. But he was so huge and influential during my college years that he was hard to ignore. I'll miss Michael for his talent and his crazy-ass bizarre behavior.

For these lazy days of summer, surfing the Internet for trashy MJ overdose news feels just right. At least for now there's no need to move on.