She’s getting ready to eat him.

Some kind of Donner Party reenactment?

Mattie ‘The Matterhorn’ McFerrin.

She must have to get weekly treatments for neck pain with that 22-pound beehive.

Rub the lamp, you get a genie. Rub the hair, you get a disease.

Mattie’s beehive was never the same after the fiery inferno the night her head got too close to the gas lamp.

The lifeboat is gonna sink.

The Wilder Trio may become a duet for the sake of survival.

I’d rather swim for it.

While Michael Jackson obviously had some deep unresolved personal issues and strange/questionable behaviors that led to him being a staple target for the late-night comedy crews, his creative genius and extraordinary charisma made him a deserving cultural icon. One of my earliest musical memories is of listening to Thriller in the backseat of my cousin’s minivan, all of us kids just rocking out to the funky beats. To this day, his records never cease to inspire even my movement-repressed baptist-raised pathetic hips to boogie. On behalf of the rest of the Regrettable Music boys, RIP MJ… peace to your family.