Michael Jackson, the King of Pop is dead, and the internet broke. Between him and Farrah, all future June 25ths will be observed by members of pop culture by hiding in their panic rooms with their heads under covers hoping the reaper will spare their lives. Like Passover, only Supernatural style.
I can't pick a MJ song to listen to right now, since choosing my favorite is so difficult and impossible you need Einstein to create an equation to help decide. So I'm numbing it all by watching 30 Rock.
I got my period today also, so I'm crampy and cranky.