Yesterday, while talking to Mama Sinick on the phone, she made a request: “Michael (pronounced Mi-cawl…shout out to readers from The Boot), if you see Joe Jackson, can you punch him in the noise? Oh and if you see LaToya – well her nose would fall off if you touched it – trip her or something?”
I am more than ready to get on Papa Joe pimpin’ out his son’s legacy in a Satan-styled Zoot Suit, but I was trying to be polite towards LaToya. Ya’ll know Toy-Toy isn’t the brightest bulb in the room and the poor things mean well.
Then I read an interview she did with a U.K. tabloid telling all of her brothers business. Granted, anyone with eyes could tell those Jackson kids were purchased, but would Michael want his sister sharing that with the world? For money, no less?
Even more sickening is LaToya digging up a 7-year-old song and releasing it to iTunes as a tribute to her brother.
I wish someone had told LaToya to keep her nose and go be somebody’s light skinned Naomi Campbell because this girl is by far the least talented Jackson in the bunch.
She cannot sing. She cannot dance. I can’t even look at her walking without laughing. Yet she has the gall to not only keep pushing her subpart material, she does so on the back of her brother’s death?
How tactless can you be, LaLeecher? Granted, this song is by far one of her best vocal performances ever, however, anything from her that doesn’t make me instantly burst into laugher is considered somewhat of a win.
Mama Sinick added: “Oh and could you tell Jermaine to not try to hit those high notes anymore. It’s over.”
Hopefully I’ll have the opportunity to do so, but right now, I’m too busy fighting the urge to curse out Michael’s plastic lookalike and his no good Pops.
You have to love your family, but can most of us agree that some of our relatives just aren’t shit?