Michael Jackson: 1958-2009

You thrilled us.  You made us dance.  You bought a gorilla.  You frightened our youth.  You jumped on top of an SUV like Richard fucking Nixon.  You slept in a hyperbaric chamber.  You died from a heart attack.  Possibly because your dipshit live-in doctor shot you up with too much Demerol. 

There were still so many antics to look forward to.

Gone before your time.

Go on and beat it, Thriller.