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Thursday, November 20, 2003

 

Dept. of Incarceration: Erstwhile King of Pop Edition



Disclaimer: This is America, and all alleged molesty billionaire pop-stars are innocent until proven guilty by a court of law, prevailing popular opinion, or coverage in the mass media.

A Proposed Itinerary for Michael Jackson's First Day in Federal Prison

8:56 a.m.: Arrive at correctional facility. Place zipper-riddled Member's Only Jacket and single white, sequined glove, and most realistic prosthetic nose (suitable for Star magazine cover close-ups) in envelope for safekeeping during stay in prison and return upon release. Receive prison-issue orange jumpsuit.

9:15 a.m.: Impromptu orientation on prison life in warden's office. Comply with inappropriate request by warden to sign copy of "Thriller" album for 10-year-old grandson.

9:32 a.m.: Warden excuses himself to go to restroom; anal rape by inmate filing rejected clemency applications.

9:44 a.m.: Escort to cell in center of general population. Sign autographs for scores of inmates shouting declarations of their fandom that sound suspiciously like ominous sexual overtures.

9:47 a.m.: Arrive at cell. Meet cellmate, currently serving consecutive life sentences for strangling local parish priest over suspicions of sexual misconduct with altar boys.

10:07 a.m.: Briefly commiserate with pointedly silent cellmate over Tommy Mottola's plot to destroy once-legendary pop career by underpromoting "Invincible."

11:30 a.m.: Report for in-house job at prison laundry. Fold towels. Discover that it's still possible to fellate shift supervisor at shiv-point while stuffed into dryer.

12:30 p.m.: Lunch in cafeteria. Eat with representative of skinhead faction that interprets efforts to bleach pigment from skin as rejection of race. Alienate skinhead with insistence that cotton candy from concession stand next to Neverland Tilt-a-Whirl is much yummier than lukewarm mash potatoes.

2:30 p.m.: Excercise in yard chasing inmates playing keep-away with prosthetic nose. Unconvincingly brag about former sexual relationship with Lisa Marie Presley over contraband cigarettes; unfortunate choice of boast phrase involving "tapping that ass" gives inmates inspiration for immediate sodomy involving barbells.

4:00 p.m.: Awake from total ego-preserving psychological shutdown and report to infirmary. Fill out triplicate request form for padded seating ring normally prescribed to hemorrhoid sufferers.

5:00 p.m.: Trade padded seating ring to gang banger in exchange for keeping ear canal virginity for at least one night.

6:30 p.m.: Dinner in cafeteria. Remark that unlike prison meatloaf, "Neverland meatloaf" is actually chocolate ice cream served on a bed of Belgian waffles and covered in powdered cinammon. Sign copy of "Bad" for hulking inmate wearing contraband eyeliner.

7:30 p.m.: Return to cell for lights out. Cellmate explains that seemingly unoccupied bottom bunk is where his rage against sex offenders sleeps.

8:30 p.m.: Confusion when cellmate is allowed by correctional officers to take a constitutional stroll outside of cell. Receive visit from hulking inmate wearing contraband eyeliner. Learn that signing copy of "Bad" was one-week contract for sexual indentured servitude.

10:00 p.m.: Wonder how long before monkey-wrangler realizes payroll funds were frozen by judge and abandons caretaking of Bubbles. Try to get comfortable using base of stainless steel commode as pillow. Ruminate on irony in titling an album "Invincible." Exhaust colorful euphemisms for poetically-justified prison rape. Hum self to sleep with melody line to "Say Say Say." Realize how strange name Macaulay sounds when repeated over and over. Find self unable to sleep.




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This is the internet home of Mark Lisanti, a Los Angeles writer sometimes known as Bunsen. He is the founding editor of Defamer, a weblog about Hollywood, where he now serves in the nebulous capacity of "editor-at-large."
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