Review Summary: What if I told you Quincy Jones had that dawg in him?
April Fool's Day is a traumatizing day for me. My plans always come to naught and amount to a pile of shifting sand, my marks always outsmarting me. Meanwhile, my consistent victimization reminds me of one sinister and immovable truth; it is I
who art the fool. It would simply bring me more pain to recount all of my folly, but I will do it here for dramatic effect anyway.
THE FIRST OF APRIL, TWO THOUSAND AND ADD SEVEN TO THAT NUMBER. I hath been promised by Father to go riding on a horse's back, when in reality he had previously arranged for several horses to trample me, for I had stolen a cutlery set from Ye Olde Wal Mart and required punishment. "Only fools resort to thievery," he stated as my orbital bone caved in. "Perhaps orient yourself toward more foolish pursuits, like writing for a dying guitar tab forum." APRIL THE SECOND MINUS ONE, TWO THOUSAND AND TEN PLUS ZERO. There I was, minding my own business at the fast food eatery. All I desired was a sufficiently chilled beverage, and my glass had been delivered to me with a distinct lack of ice. What was a foolish young lad to do besides accost the small box-shaped wage slave across the aisle and ask for, and I doth quote, "a couple of ice cubes?" Imagine my surprise when this absolute jester, this BUFFOON, only put one
ice cube in my drink, when I specifically asked for a couple. I swore I would never be the butt of a joke again and retired from public life immediately. I have only left my bedroom twice in the past thirteen years; once to get the mail in 2016, and once because I was listening to michael jackson - thriller
and my involuntary air humping catapulted me through the drywall and into the hallway.
michael jackson - thriller
is my one solace in life, my North Star, my reason for continuing on in this foolish and indifferent world. There is no problem I face that a HEE HEE cannot solve. Some doubt my commitment to the greatest piece of art humankind has ever produced, while others laser focus on the contribution of the clearly lesser Paul McCartney and have the audacity to rate this a 4.5 (they will be struck down into outer darkness at the final judgment, obviously). I simply have to convince them that Thriller is the very best, like no album ever was. To convince them is my real test, to convert them is my cause.
I would talk about the music, but I dare not disparage the sacred texts. Here are the cliff notes you need to know for serious; on the opening track, he sings his mother a song for Microsoft, a company that was not even public yet. Clearly, michael jackson - thriller
can be effectively utilized to predict stock trends. Eddie Van Halen shows up and does a dweedly doodly, and it actually sounds good for once. Clearly, michael jackson - thriller
contains some sort of magical mojo that turns even the most disgraceful of God's creatures into proselytizers of His greatest work. Then, of course, there is the title track. I'm still working on the proof, but it's very clearly a detailed map leading to the lost city of El Dorado. Only michael jackson - thriller
could hide such wonderful, golden secrets.
Days like today, another dreaded APRIL THE FIRST, can be difficult due to my traumatic past, but michael jackson - thriller
gives me the strength to SHAMONE and continue on. I shall not be fooled ever again in my life, and the great Quincy Jones shall watch over me and give me the resolve to fight against folly. Now, if you'll excuse me, my wife said she wants to get back together, and there's no way she could be doing anything but telling the truth.