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Garden of Evil. (Insturmental)

Garden of Evil. (Insturmental)

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 Lil bitz So I'm watching this is it I love Michael Jackson, So I have this movie queued up for a couple days And I finally get to watching it, And it's been a quiet few days So I'm watching this movie in like silence. And it's so eerie to watch Michael Jackson rehearse in this like full stadium for nobody at all— Almost like, telling of the actuality of him impending death— but I'm watching this, and I'm like, really into it, you know, paying attention to all the details, and it gets to the part, one of my favorite songs: And it's showing him rehearsing like Jam, and you know, it's one of my favorite songs so I know all the words, and he's dancing— going like 110% in rehearsal. I trained in dancing for a little bit— most people don't do that. In rehearsal it's usually conserving your energy and just about the mechanics of everything, you know, the rehearsals leading up are like “75-80%” you know the drill, you get it down, but you conserve your energy for the big rehearsals— the dress rehearsals and the opening nights and the entirety of the tour— you don't want to burn our. But not Michael Jackson. This dude is going 400% at rehearsal, everytime you see him, which is why he's the absolute catalyst of professionalism for performance. But I'm watching him rehearse this at full, max-level energy, and he's aiming “Jam! Jam!” And I'm thinking about how literally this is just before he died, and he's really going all-in singing “Jam! It ain't too much for me!” And I can't help thinking about the irony of this, is that… ‘Like, actually, it is.” Like it was too much for him… because he did this— And then died shortly after. So the irony, to me, was like “It ain't too much for me!” I'm like “Yes it is.” It was too much for him. I couldn't help but notice the irony. “It ain't too much for me!” “Yes it is Michael! Sit the fuck down” Or better yet, dawg— Lay down….(mwahaha) Said, Conrad. “Let's take a nap, shall we?” Too soon? Okay, I get that his death was ruled a homicide: But here's my reverse conspiracy theory. I don't think he was murdered. I think he was ‘exited' No, not executed, “exited” Like, after all that, Michael was just like “ok , i'm getting off here. that's…that's enough.” Or like, we already knew he was immortal and wasn't gonna die anyway, of like, just natural causes. “Might as well make it a spectacle.” “This is it!” (lol that joke still works 15 years later, I guess. The movie is on youtube for free right now so, it's relevant. Its relevant.) {Enter The Multiverse} Every time I stick my hand in the middle of a papaya I wish I had a dick so I could warm it up and fuck it. Top Ten Best Fruits of All Time to be fair, I wrote the papaya joke before continuing my obsession with michael jackson in the monumental comic atrocity. Fair. You'd have to warm it up, though. He said, “Don't say shit” To this day it still don't make sense She didn't give a whisper, Slick tongue, six-nine Try dialogue but nothing she could try to find in time, And so, he counts from one to five and with the lies had come down to talk With the conclusion that after all, She couldn't do this And the story once to be told Now was none I dream in beforehand Secrets and premonitions Now you don't need me, I seek to bleed, sequence Ten seconds, initiated in the heartfire Words now? None I never thought of Before now, Now come. lol remember when Skrillex followed me to Brooklyn? Lol. Didn't I hide in a closet? I don't remember. Did I hide in the closet? What made me look that up? Curiosity killed the cat. Where the fuck is my cat, anyway? Atticus Catticus? The truth is, I think Skrillex might just be one cold hard murderer; I think Sonny hides behind his good looks and non subtle genius— I think I hide my eyes, cause I can't find them; The original pair went into the air, With The Rock And The Kite, And with all the despair in the world I like peaches and pears, After all, This is no random circumstances That you might have canned them, Then a penny for a power Just to recind how I did spend My last hour. Don't worry about that! I don't! Don't look and don't touch! I didn't! Don't gawk and don't talk back; I can't. I never quite abandoned anything so quite as badly As my own Cuban sandwhich Back in the cabbana, BRIAN CRANSTON Howdy partner! Goddammit, not right now! BRIAN CRANSTON If not now— WHEN? I don't know when!! Okay?! BRIAN CRANSTON No, not okay! I'm not okay! Well, why? What? BRIAN CRANSTON I'm not okay! BRIAN CRANSTON is not okay . AHHHHJJJJ!!!'nnnnnnnnnn!!!!!!'nnn Why is this map still open?! I don't know! The moderators won't close it. ANNE HATHAWAY harpoons a large subway rat. Guh! Fuck New York! I'm...
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