See, in the past few days, three majour deaths have occurred: Michael Jackson (50), Farrah Fawcett (62), and Billy Mays (50). Is it bad of me to not have cared so much about Michael, even less about Farrah, but to almost cry over Billy Mays? I mean, I guess they were all icons. Everyone's heard of Michael Jackson. People with taste (or old people)
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When I heard of Michael's death though, well I found out via big screen in Times Square. But it was frozen so it only said, BREAKING NEWS: MICHAEL JACKSON HAS
Puzzled, my friend and I check online only to see that it says MJ had a cardiac arrest. Then after explaining to my friend that cardiac arrest is a fancy word for heart attack, we were confused if he was dead or not. An hour later we're sitting waiting for Chicago to start, and discussing the news, when a Scottish women and her friends all stare at us and say,
"Yea' 'es dead."
-Oh
*silence*
Awkward.
But, besides the pointless story, his death probably hit me the hardest. My friend and I were both kinda freaked, but we had to keep it in 'cause Chicago started.
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