I See Dead People!

Damn. James Brown went tits up on Christmas, and Gerald Ford followed him on that great chariot ride today.

I liked James Brown. He made a clumsy moose like me feel like he had rhythm. Like I had SOUL. I sheepishly admit to happily dancing around, yelling "Wow! HEH." because of James Brown.

So I'm going to miss ya, you musical wonder with the funny hair. (What the hell was that? A pompadour?) Say hello to Elvis for me when you get to that Rock & Roll Heaven place. Oh, and Jim Morrison, and Kurt Cobain, and that guy from AC/DC who drank himself to death, and...

Ah, fuck it. There's just too many of them to list. Say hi to 'em all.

Rest in peace, Godfather of Soul.

Oh, Gerald Ford. Jerry, Jerry, Jerry. You were at the helm when the ship was in very troubled waters. (That sounded kind of profound, didn't it? I felt my pee-pee get hard.)

What in the fuck were you supposed to do besides pardon Tricky Dicky? Let a former President go on criminal trial for not figuring out soon enough that some idjits on his staff colored outside the lines? Ferfuck'ssake. If we did that, just about every President ever would have spent his golden years as a guest of the federal penitentiary system.

Nah, you did fine, Mr. Ford. Don't let anyone ever tell you otherwise.

And when you get to Dead Politician Heaven, say hello to the Gipper and Barry Goldwater for me. Then go find FDR and LBJ and sucker-punch them. Thanks.

Rest in peace, and don't forget to high-five Dick. You guys did right by each other.