So Michael Jackson died the way he lived - to the sound of a billion text message jingles heralding an avalanche of contrived kiddy-fiddling gags.
I've already said so at Hutton's place, but I think that it'd be great if Jarvis Cocker gatecrashed Jacko's funeral and started slapping his arse at LaToya. We can only hope that Janet can restrain herself from jamming her right diddy into the lens of a papparazzo's camera, thus disturbing what will doubtless be a quiet, dignified and very private service.
Jackson-related trivia - Mama-say, mama sah, mama-mah-koo-sah is Swahili for Quincy Jones likes African choirs but can't be arsed to learn Swahili. Thank God he hadn't holidayed in Scotland instead, or Wanna Be Startin' Something would end with the repeated refrain of Ahma pished as fuck an ah've been stabbed.
Picture credit - Clut at B3ta.