The JACKSONS: Pink Eye, a silent killer.

What? We’re superstars!

This week, more delusion in that the four Jackson brothers actually think they’re worth something. It’s sort of comical seeing them put together Michael tributes that fail and crack totally unfunny jokes, but on the other hand, I want to stab my television screen with a fork as I watch. Also, Jermaine is a huge pussy and pulls the ‘ol PINK EYE excuse for missing a photo shoot. Geez, what were you actually doing, Jermaine? Making music?

Liar.

Wow, I cannot believe I’m yet again finishing a recap in an airport. This year, with more Vicodin and Christmas cheer (minus the Christmas cheer)!

Anyhoo, if you remember last time, the remaining Jacksons are boring and lame, and sorta trying to reach the masses by doing everything they possibly can by delaying recording their 40th anniversary album.

Oh- more delays. Oh! oh! Michael died! Great….so this’ll take up like….3 more episodes.

Jackie is…having an inner monologue at the beginning of this episode? WTF?

If I could carry him 100 miles…I would. (try)

OH, then Tito gets in on this ridiculous lets-shoot-them-pondering-Michaels-death-and-put-meldramatic-monologue-over-it.

Funeral Bowler- now in Burgundy!

And Marlon, too….god, do the producers know how ridiculous this looks?

Oh, they all get a turn. Even Jermaine, who is like an older, uglier Tiger Woods.

Am I right?

Blah blah blah nobody will ever understand losing a sibling, blah blah blah.

Cue nostalgic colored wind tunnel.

Sweaty Michael seventies colored wind tunnel

Jesus Christ already, we get it- he was a human being. And, death sucks. And we’ll never understand. Do we need fucking 800 minutes of this shit? Do I at least get another Vicodin?

Here’s a shot of Marlon being badgered at LAX. Apparently, he is in the FBI.

First class or coach, Marlon? Be honest.

So, a whole two second segment of Paparazzi being tactful, asking Marlon about his parents, and leaving. Yeah, fame can be so cruel, you douche.

And another two minutes of each brother getting out of their car in Rodeo-douchewear and saying hi to the paparazzi, and…uh, meeting for some swank business meeting? Sure, I guess I buy it. But only because they’re all wearing linen.

Hey y’all. Nice lilly arrangement.

So I guess they’re all there to meet with their lawyer. But before that, know what I’d like to watch? How about some washed-up, marginally talented singers talk about LA traffic? Done. Lightning bugs? Done.

Oh shit! The lawman has news. Apparently, someone wanted a show from the Jacksons, they even put it in a contract! And- in true Jackson form- the dudes just…didn’t do it. I bet they were busy, having fifteen meetings, or maybe a barbecue. Or, I dunno, visiting Janet’s dog in upstate New York for inspiration.

Seriously, no more Ebay businesses. TIme for a show.

Jermaine the baby OF COURSE gets pissed first. Gosh, how can a person who pays money to see us be so insensitive? Come on.

We’re still in mourning! And, enjoying some great Shrimp aux poivre.

OH SHIT- also in that contract that we signed we said we’d do two new songs? Uh, ummmm…..dayumn. And what, everything we do now will be looked at through the lens of Michael’s death?

No pressure (pisses pants)

Hey dudes, Tito makes a great point: we’ve GOT to find some time to you know, put away to make some music and time for this show. Am I right?

…

Apparently, that time has arrived, now that the dudes are freaked out because of their upcoming gig. So, they go meet with some big (and by big I mean large) producer dudes.

Tito bonds with one of them about headwear.

Hats hats hats!

So, hits. Have them, big men? We want them, but with minimal work.

They talk a lot about how Jacksons mean love in their music and also the difficulties of not having a talented lead singer…or much talent left, at all. Yeah, that sucks. Hey, I thought of something. It’s a catch phrase that I say when love hurts. It’s “love needs a warning.” yeah, I liked it too! Hey, you’re putting it to music! Wha? What’s that?

ohhhh, THAT’S how you write a song. Nice.

You’re a legend.

NO- YOU’RE A LEGEND.

Okay, producers.

OKay, Jacksons.

Let’s Jack each other off and call it a recording session.

Oh wait, but first- Jermaine as a black Elvis impersonator.

You know I’m right.

So Marlon and Jackie head to Amoeba records to…check out producers? Whatever. Half the segment is spent on the two of them looking at all the rows of Jackson CDS. Fortunately, the only people who recognize them are over 60.

This isn’t for me…it’s for my mom!

Oh sorry, also some dykey indie girl. She probably works there.

Not for me. For my mom. Uh, girlfriend. Uh, fan club newsletter.

ON AND I MOTHERFUCKING CALLED IT! Her name’s TUNA. as in, I like to eat TUNA.

VAGINA.

VAGINA, you guys.

Then, how Marlon is so fucking gracious because he gives autographs to ANYONE. Man, Marlon should be Sainted. Am I right, Tuna?

SInce Jermaine didn’t get enough attention (you know, the fans need more, uh, Michael stuff. With me, Jermaine Jackson!) he’s putting on a tribute. Also being tributized? The Patron saint of douchey shirts.

And scarves. Heart!

Jermaine’s heavily makeupped mail-order wife seems to be doing all the work, while Jermaine just whines in designer outerwear.

Seriously? THAT shirt?

Then more bullshit from Jermaine about making it for the fans and being dignified. Yeah, Jermaine. Dignified is your middle name.

I only do Hound Dog. NO REQUESTS!

OF COURSE- who would headline such an event? Why, Jermaine himself. Seriously, these fuckers make me fucking sick.

Also making me sick is Jackie, who is REALLY busy looking at new logos for the Jacksons, instead, of, um, RECORDING SOME MOTHERFUCKING MUSIC.

Bringing his daughter along (you know, because young rich kids have it going on) they love the douchiest, most snobby logo ever, a fucking seal. Just print it up and put Ed Hardy in the title, these dudes will buy it, right?

Nice photoshopping.

HAHHAHAA- So, get this. Jermaine didn’t tell ANY of his brothers about the tribute, and they all got pissed. Then, some people didn’t confirm or some bullshit, and the tribute had to be “rescheduled.” God, Jermaine. when you look back on your life, what do you see? Douchey shirts and whines galore?

Blah blah blah the tribute was for all of us, right? Whatever, attention whore.

Then Jermaine and his mail order bride have a conversation on a rooftop? About how Jermaine’s mom inexplicably makes her cry? I’m confused. It’s just one failure on to another!

It’s also funny that every time Jermaine’s mail-order wife kisses Jermaine, he’s all pussy about getting makeup on himself.

In New York, more dawdling occurs with reminiscing, and then a photo shoot, and who isn’t there! JERMAINE! And what an awesome excuse: PINK EYE! Hahahhah. Fucking terrible.

Yeah, I wear dumb hats, too, because, uh, I have pink eye.

What’s the point in doing a photo shoot with three talentless assholes over the four? Well, I guess nothing. Proceed.

Another one for that special filing cabinet called the garbage can.

After, they have a hard-hitting interview with ET, where the interview dude is all like, I’m a fan…and then the Jacksons get all perturbed when he asks if there is animosity with Jermaine. Ugh, what prima donnas. Then another five fucking minutes about them having to deal with the media all the time, and that’s what show biz is, etc. etc. etc.

Back in LA, Tito isn’t sure that he wants to pull of this whole making music thing! But you know who might think otherwise? His three douchey sons. And, no they don’t wear bowlers, but one does have terrible, terrible dreadlocks.

3 Well photoshopped Tito likenesses

3T is working on Tito’s album, where he busily (and haughtily) stops the session to talk about how 3T is cramping his “style.” Uh, sure. Bowler caps? You’re terrible. It’s weird seeing Tito obviously jealous of his kids’ success. He makes jokes about how they’ll open for him (what? With the unreleased record of yours?) and how he’s their dad and super fuckin important.

Then 3T goes into whining about how it’s tough recuperating from their Uncle’s Death, blah blah blah. Man, I bet they wish Michael was their dad, and not Tito. We all do, 3T. Well, most of us who aren’t little boys do.

Then the three Jacksons (sans Jermaine) have another meeting talking about how they’re going to meet with Jermaine. And also, how Jackie is really sensitive about his BACON OMELETTE not being fried in butter.

Jackie asks how Tito is, and Tito says his sons might break up! What? No, let’s postpone our own business to talk to them! Oh man, so many parallels to…well, the best people on earth, the Jacksons! Right!?

Then someone makes a fucking LAME joke. Here it is (wait for it)

Jackie: Can you pass the black pepper?

Marlon: Black pepper for the black Man!

OH, and then a fucking GIGGLE FIT. OH HOW FUNNY! GET IT???

Oh, and then some paparazzi come to take pictures. Like, two. Yeah, part of the business…blah blah blah I get it. The Jacksons are famous and doing great things with their lives.

Then Jermaine finally does decide to do the photo shoot…but not the concert. Um, aren’t they, like, contractually obligated?

But I’m a SUPERSTAR!

And everyone cheers him on. Even Halima, his mail order bride who does everything for him.

Really, he’s like a fucking infant.

THen he has his interview and says he was exhausted (sure, you’re doing so much) and couldn’t do the interview. I LOVE how the interview guy asks if the Jackson 4 want to cash in on Michael’s death…uh, let’s say some bullshit to get outta this one, right?

Yeah. this show is REAL. and, totally not cashing in, AT ALL.

Then, the four hundredth meeting and Jermaine shows! Woah! Repeat jokes are made! Woah! And then…talking about the show. And, how music is no problem. The simplest thing, right? Oh, also, they want to do some FUCKING MICHAEL JACKSON SONGS.

REALLY?

God I hate these guys.