“You need to write in your blog,” she said. “That’s what you need to do.” And it was those words, from an estranged, and indeed, strange friend over the Atlantic that tonight compels me write. I had called her in the post-Celebrity Big Brother buzz when, after watching such C-list luminaries as Channel 4 racing tipster, John McCririck and former Mrs Rocky, Brigitte Nielson, I felt a sudden need to exercise what was left of my A-grade personality before the Tube sucked away the remainder. Unfortunately, first choice recipient – and one of few friends my own age – was otherwise engaged – and so it is with you, lucky runner-up, that I share my thoughts this evening.

You, dear reader, round off my otherwise ‘square of friends’, into a perfect circle. My social life, you see, tends to coincide with university holidays when student types – all hair and no money – are back in town for their jollies. December therefore was a particularly busy month. Now, somewhere a fat lady has sung, the window of goodwill between Christmas and New Years has swung shut, and students are back to the all work/no play drudgery of University life. In their absence I prowl the Internet message boards, looking for the human connection suddenly withdrawn from my life.

I never find it. But I did return to a message board that I’d come across in researching an earlier post that quietly exudes a peaceful sense of community amongst its 1000+ members. They’re all committed to their cause, passionate about their subject and abide by the simple rules of their community: never say “Wacko Jacko.” They are the members of the Michael Jackson Discussion Board and eagerly debate (though admittedly only one side of) the King of Pop’s upcoming trial. They’ve gathered an archive of 500+ and surprisingly balanced articles on the subject and it is a minor detail from a major document that I’d like to share with you.

The Smoking Gun, God knows how they do it, have got their hands on some sealed documents from the case against Michael Jackson. They have, of course, unsealed them and put them online. It turns out that hell-bent District Attorney, Tom Sneddon, so busy with actual cases against actual criminals, had no time to write a new document and instead copied and pasted entire paragraphs from a 1993 case against Jackson that, although settled out of court, is worth noting, two Grand Juries failed to indict.

However, what’s new ten years later is the discovery of – shock horror – pornography under Jackson’s bed. A couple of items don’t count, in my estimation, as porn, though they appear on the police inventory as such. The first, the dubious sounding, “Chop Suey Club” is described in Sneddon’s document as containing “photos of nude young boys.” While it may sound to the uninitiated like some Asian rough trade volume, the book is actually by famed fashion photographer Bruce Weber and available on Amazon. (Check it out.)

The second, “Poo-Chi,” detectives wrote, contained “photographs of female groin area.” Officers, they only look like the female groin area! The volume is the, um, inventive work of Mayumi Lake, who photographs underarms and knees to create the illusion that you are looking at a woman’s nether region. Very funny, Mr Jackson. Though we didn’t expect you to have a sense of humour.

Funnier still and perhaps more unexpected is the actual porn discovered in Jackson’s bedroom and the thought with which I’d like to leave you agiggling tonight. Amongst such mainstays as Swank, Club, and Couples was a Director’s Cut DVD of the Hustler produced documentary, ‘Pimp’s Up, Ho’s Down.’

And if you’re surprised by Jackson’s taste, consider the black fedora, the single white glove and the sequined socks and it all begins to make sense. Cha’mone!

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