Micheal Jackson

Im sitting in front of my humongus window 208 stories in the sky above the city. My computer lays in front of me on the desk. The warmth of Sleepy time tea laced with poison consumes my chest. I look at different web gossip and tabloids. Celebrity news. Info of people that I want dead. I get mad and write a 13 page complaint under a video of Perez Hilton being a hipocrite and pansy on youtube. Im glad Will. I. Am. punch the pink haired fruitbasket. He looks like the devil. I head back to the evil headquarters. The search engine that will take of the world and smash everyone back into a slave state of mind. "What the blue devil blazes is this!!!" I see a piece of information that shocks me. I quickly search the web in a frantic attemp to find more info on the situation. Is this actually happening? Someone this big?!?! Is Micheal Jackson really about to die??? As much as people tear him to pieces on sketch comedy shows, they all still love him. I dont love, but if i did i would feel a super special way about this. After I get tired of looking for the story, i get up, light my chalise and gaze out my excessivly large window.

I need white socks.