This is a double post, also found at my spot over @ honeymag.com, "Judgmentally Yours...". My letter to a newly famous man, the murderer of Mr. Michael Joseph Jackson.

link to article: HERE

Dear Dr. Conrad Murray,

(Note: For those of you who have been living under a rock or in the Bronx, Dr. Conrad Murray is the cardiologist who had been MJ's cardiologist. He was responsible for administering the fatal dose of Propofol that eventually led to Michael Jackson's death.)

How goes it, sir?

Death threats, huh? Yea, I can only imagine...

Listen, I know you've seen better days, but I would be doing you a disservice if I didn't take a minute to share some words with you.

*gestures to (electric) chair*

Let's chat.

I guess there's no easy way to say it, so I'll come right out with it. Your days are numbered.

Whew. That wasn't so hard. Now I'll tell you why.

You must be well aware of your predicament. In short, you killed Michael Jackson. Not Tito. Not Marlon. Not Freddie or Samuel L...but MICHAEL JACKSON, the man who provided decades of joy and wonder to fans worldwide, and provided an (unattainable) example for Usher, Ne-Yo, Chris Brown, Ciara (or so she says), and countless other entertainers past and present.

As of today, Dr. Murray, Michael Jackson's death is now being treated as a homicide. This also begins a countdown until yours.

Aside from not knowing that you can't administer CPR to a person who's (1) lying on a bed or (2) already dead, you saw fit to enlist the help of others in an effort to cover your tracks. You rang up employees to have them dispose of evidence back at the office and company storage unit. What the hell would possess you to entrust your dirty work to two sisters named LaQuisha and LaQuanda?!?!

Of COURSE they'd give conflicting stories. Those broads were damned and destined for nothing short of implosion from birth with those names, but that's besides the point.

A word of advice: If you're going to kill Michael Jackson, the ONLY next step is to then, immediately, kill yourself. Do NOT pass GO. Do NOT phone a friend.

To date, between 12 and 15 grieving fans have chosen ending their lives as the best way to deal with the pain. What will stop the same lot of folks who piss on themselves, faint, vomit, and spontaneously combust at the mere sight of Michael from putting a bullet in that skinny little head of yours??

Some things you just don't do. You don't smoke Auntie Claudine's last Newport then ask to use her WIC card. You don't trust colored people with colored contacts. You don't support BET. And you you don't kill Michael Joseph Jackson.

I believe it's worth mentioning that this is THE one instance where LaToya's nose is not to blame for tragedy in Michael's life, but I digress...

Expect not an ounce of pity from anyone. You've also made life hell for your family, I'm sure. It must suck to be the sibling/father/wife/friend/mailman of the man that killed the King of Pop. Can you imagine the shame you've brought to the woman who pushed you out of her cursed 'gina all those decades ago?!?!? If she was smart, she would have put you in a leglock and strangled that ass at birth when she had the chance.

You win some, you lose some, I suppose. And, as the song goes, you just lost one. I'd tell you to go f*ck yourself, but that's the one thing you did do correctly. When you get to hell, save a spot for R. Kelly, mmkay? Thanks.

Judgmentally yours...

chris.alexander


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