Hello. This is the internet talking to you. You probably think we tell you lie after lie, unless of course, we say something you agree with. In that case, we’re the refreshing antidote to those scurrilous swine who work for newspapers and magazines.
And so, after Michael Jackson fans have followed in their idol’s footsteps by, essentially, calling us every single nasty name they could think of, here we are, reporting on MJ again, asking for more of the same.
This has all come about because Dr Conrad Murray – personal physician of Michael Jackson and potential buyer of this brilliant t-shirt – has now been officially accused of being… well… shit at his job.
People are now pointing at Murray and whispering “Jeez! He’s an amazing boob! Wait ’til y’get a load of this!”. Apparently, Murray waited 21 minutes before calling 911 after Michael Jackson stopped breathing (a court was told this week) and, the blundering didn’t stop there.
A judge has been given the lovely task of deciding whether there’s enough evidence to try the physician. Murray is looking at a four year stretch if convicted of involuntary manslaughter (which, for the record, he’s pleading not guilty).
And of course, as this hearing kicked off, fans of the late King Of Pop lined the streets holding badly spelled banners calling for justice. Of course, justice in their minds means ‘putting Conrad Murray in prison’, whereas, to the rest of us, ‘justice’ actually means ‘try and find out what happened please. Wouldn’t it be awful if we were haranguing someone and it turned out they did everything they could to try and save a man’s life?’.
However, if the accusations are true, then it seems like Conrad Murray was quite possibly the least qualified person on Earth to actually look after a outrageously sick man like Jackson.
District attorney David Walgren told the court:
“There are a number of actions displayed by Dr Murray that show an extreme deviation from the standard of care.”
So what does this ‘deviation’ mean? Well, for a kick-off, it is alleged that as soon as the shit hit every fan on the planet, Murray ordered a security guard to collect the drugs he had used to treat the singer as well as a load of needles and… y’know… stuff that may have been needed for evidence.
As well as hiding stuff and calling for an ambulance around 70 hours after Jackson had clearly died, it is also claimed that the physician didn’t even know how to do CPR.
Shit. Murray was probably pressing down on his own chest while chewing needlefuls of propofol! What a boob!
A guard, who will be a key witness, says that he saw Murray crouched next to Jackson’s bed…
“in a panicked state asking, ‘Does anyone know CPR?’”
“We knew Dr. Murray was a heart surgeon, so we were shocked,”
For the grief-mongers amongst you, you’ll be thrilled to learn that Jackson appeared to be dead with his “eyes open and his mouth open, just laying there.” Just so you can get a really good image of it in your perverted little minds.