Since Michael Jackson was pronounced dead this afternoon, I have heard these exact words from 37 different people: “Michael Jackson is dead, but his spirit lives on!“

I started thinking to myself, what if his spirit really is living on? And furthermore, let’s just pretend for a second, that he really was a child molester. Wouldn’t his spirit be… evil?

Michael Jackson’s spirit wouldn’t gather a bunch of professional dancer zombies and charm you with a remake of Thriller in the streets. Think again, buddy. He’s gonna go haunt-touch some little kids.

Haunt-touching a supernatural version of normal sexual molestation, but not quite as bad because the offender has no physical form — he’s a ghost, so his hand goes right through the child. They cannot technically touch themselves either. Double bummer, eh?

I had a hunch that Santa Maria, California could be in danger if Jackson’s ghost was on the prowl. Santa Maria is one of the closest suburbs to the Neverland Ranch, where Jackson’s restless spirit retreats to just before dawn.

This is the aerial view of Santa Maria that a spirit would have if it were flying around, looking for children to haunt-touch.

We need to evacuate this town.

Luckily, only the usual Catholic altar boy molestations have been reported since Thursday.

But what about Los Padres National Forest, located right next to the Neverland Ranch?

I thought, “Surely there are Boy Scouts hiking through Los Padres! They’re all in danger,”so I contacted Los Padres National Forest to warn them about the possible haunt-touching that could occur. Surprisingly, they were well aware of the situation!

Working full-time at the national forest’s lookout post is an expert team of um, national forest people. They do things like watch for forest fires, shoot rabid coyotes that attack hikers, and suck the poison out of a rattlesnake bite. They let you die if you get bitten in the penis.

They asked to remain anonymous. Jerks.

The Los Padres lookout facility boasts the latest ghost-detecting gadgets, such as this thing — the GhostMaster 3000. It does something with sound and invisible gamma rays that make your testicle hair fall out if you stand too close.

Ghosts hate this thing.

With all this technology and concern for the kids’ safety, I’m pretty sure we won’t hear anything more about Michael Jackson, except for good things. Better safe than sorry though. That’s all I’m sayin’.

Michael Jackson is dead! According to TMZ.com:

“Michael suffered a cardiac arrest earlier this afternoon and paramedics were unable to revive him. We’re told when paramedics arrived Jackson had no pulse and they never got a pulse back.”

This is not some kind of a sick joke. Michael Jackson actually died today, people.

More on this story as it develops…

Update: Jackson’s death confirmed in the L.A. Times:

“Pop star Michael Jackson was pronounced dead by doctors this afternoon after arriving at a hospital in a deep coma, city and law enforcement sources told The Times.”

RIP Michael Jackson

Last week, I wrote about the 18-year-old girl from Belgium who “fell asleep” while getting a few stars tattooed on her face, and woke up with half of her face covered in stars. If you recall, her name was Cunty McMasterson. As it turns out, Cunty wanted those tattoos. All 56 of ‘em.

“I asked for 56 stars and initially adored them, but when my father saw them, he was furious, so I said I fell asleep and that the tattoist had made a mistake,” Cunty told a Dutch TV crew.

“This is my sad face.”

Seriously though, none of us have the right to judge Cunty. We’ve all blamed other people for our mistakes. For instance, one time I shat the bed and blamed it on the cat. It worked too because I was a little kid and my turds were really small like cat poop.

Yay for the truth!

I’ve got a big problem with somebody, and his name is Pneumonia. Last year, he killed Bernie Mac and got away clean. Here is a list of some very important people that Pneumonia has killed:

1. Freddie Mercury (lead singer of the band Queen): He had AIDS, but pneumonia killed him.

2. George Washington (1st US President): His doctors actually killed him, but they were treating him for, that’s right, pneumonia.

3. Bruce Paltrow (Gweneth Paltrow’s father): He also had oral cancer, but pneumonia had a hand in his death too.

4. Lamb Chop (famous puppet): Also known as Shari Lewis, but I always paid more attention to her puppet. Uterine cancer + Pneumonia = Dead.

5. Harriet Tubman (former slave / slave rescuer): Pneumonia killed a former slave and probably a bunch of holocaust victims. It doesn’t get any worse than that.

6. House Peters Jr. (AKA Mr. Clean & Sharkman): Pneumonia killed Mr. Clean? There is no God.

Rest in peace, pneumonia victims.

Today we can add another legendary name to the Wall of Pneumonia. Ed McMahon died in the hospital today. He was 86-years-old.

RIP Ed McMahon 1923-2009.

The last decade was pretty shitty for Ed. He was plagued by mold-related health problems, severe financial woes, a broken neck, and [rumors of] bone cancer. He also probably had a swollen prostate gland and trouble urinating, as most elderly men do.

Had it not been for pneumonia, Ed would have made an epic comeback by starring in his own new reality show “I’m Ed McMahon, Bitch!” He also would have released his own fragrance “McMahon 4 Men.” And let’s not forget about “McMahon’s Manitees,” the aquatic equivalent of “Jerry’s Kids.”

Last night, the Much Music Video Awards were held in Toronto, Canada. Big names like The Jonas Brothers, Kelly Clarkson, and Nickelback took the stage to perform for a bunch of people who like that kind of stuff. Me? I was watching GZA (from the Wu-Tang Clan) perform a few blocks away.

Had I known that Perez Hilton was a guest for the MMVA’s, I would have ditched GZA and gladly stood silently through a Nickelback performance just to throw a massive pink dildo on stage and hit Perez in the face.

Last night, during an afterparty, Perez Hilton claimed that he was assaulted by Black Eyed Peas member Will.I.Am and his security guards. Shocked, injured, and terrified, Perez did what any assault victim would do — he TWEETED about it, rather than calling the police.

Perez has over 1,000,000 follows on Twitter. His desperate tweets for help prompted thousands of phone calls to the Toronto Police. So, if you were being raped in an alley on Queen St. last night, and tried to call 911 but couldn’t reach a dispatcher, thank Perez Hilton.

Some of you probably want to know about the assault. Ugh, fine. Here’s Will.I.Am’s side of the story, which is far less annoying than Perez’s.

For those of you who don’t feel like watching a 4-minute explanation about a 10-second ordeal, here’s the summary: Perez was talking shit about Fergie. Fergie had Will.I.Am approach Perez and ask why he was hating. Perez got mouthy and called Will.I.Am a faggot. Will.I.Am ignores the name-calling and calmly stands by as a mysterious person punches Perez. Perez immediately calls police tweets for help.

Wow, I feel like I’m in third fucking grade.

I don’t even give a shit who punched Perez. If your first reaction to being “assaulted” is to notify the Twitter community before calling the police, you’re a piece of a shit. You call the police first AND THEN Tweet about it. God!

Bonus: The Twitter transcript of Perez’s desperate pleas for help. I call it The Hopeless Howls of a Helpless Homosexual. Part One.