kirktastic

I’m surprised when I look up from the display on the StepMill 7000PT and see there’s still lotsa Michael Jackson coverage on America’s poor excuse for cable news (disclosure: FoxNews was not all MJ and instead had that stupid fuck Glenn Beck). No coup in Venezuela. No Iran election Just Michael. But as a child of the 80s am I not impacted by his death? I admit when it came out, I liked Billie Jean but found Jackson a little too bubble gum pop for me. And my dad had some of the Jackson 5 stuff playing when I was a tot. But in the 1980s I was more of a fan of Prince. Like Jackson, Prince went off the reservation later in his career but I’ll always remember the album Purple Rain as being a cornerstone of my youth. Listening to Prince was subversive back in the day. I mean Darling Nikki. Little Red Corvette. Erotic City. If I Way Your Girlfriend. Let’s Pretend We’re Married. These songs were dirty and people like Tipper Gore didn’t want us to listen to it. They wouldn’t play the videos on MTV (instead there was Nightflight on USA Network which had the dirty videos).

Of course, Farrah Fawcett died as well. My friend’s brother had the infamous poster. That hair. That smile. And those nipples! That was some pretty hot stuff for a little boy and pretty much defined hawt for me. She wasn’t my favorite Charlie’s Angel. I like Kate Jackson (disclosure: although the blondes always catch my eye, I usually fall harder for the brunettes). Of course, Fawcett was terribly ill so her death was no real surprise and her suffering has ceased. I hadn’t really thought of her until her passing but still have found memories of watching that cheesy TV show and discussing which of the Angels was hotter and which of the girls in the class could compare. Farewell Farrah.