Tuesday, 11 August 2009

Mark Lester Father of Michael Jackson's Daughter?

One was sitting the in the library at Crusty Hall the other evening checking one’s Facebook and emails.

When I signed out of one’s Hotmail account my curiosity was stimulated by a headline that Oliver Twist had claimed he was the father to Michael Jackson’s scrumptious little daughter, Paris.

I know, I could hardly believe it oneself so I clicked on the headline and read further. It appears that child star Mark Lester - who was a long time friend of the late Moonwalking Megastar - had been approached by Mr. Jackson; He had allegedly asked if it a donation of sperm could be given up for breeding purposes.

One has obviously not been privy to the exact account of the ins and outs - as t’were - but while reading the article, one pictured the scene in one’s own mind to clarify things.

The Scene: Two friends sit at a dinner table being served a delicious main course:

ML: [claps hands] Food, Glorious Food!!

MJ: Oh yes, Mark, It’s a Fine Life. Tell me, Mark, would you do something for me?

ML: I’d Do Anything for you MJ; after all Where is Love if it is not between two such good friends and I Consider Yourself as one of my closest.

MJ: Mark ... can I have your sperm?

ML: [shocked] (thinks: Well, As Long as He Needs Me I suppose…) MJ, after Reviewing The Situation, of course I’ll do it. If you can order desert I’ll just pop off for a little Oom-Pah-Pah …. Be Back Soon.

[Exit ML]

[½ hour later, enter ML with half filled receptacle]

MJ: Thank you Mark! Promise me you won’t tell a soul about our arrangement. If you do I Shall Scream.

ML: MJ, my friend, Who Will Buy such a story. You certainly won’t find this Boy For Sale. I assure you there is only one occasion after which I would think of disclosing such private information; That’s Your Funeral.

And thus the story leads us to believe that nature’s nectar was passed between the two men and a gorgeous little poppet was born. Whether the transaction was carried out using a resealable freezer bag, a turkey baster or an adequately sized piece of Tupperware is unclear, as is the matter of whether there is any truth behind the tale.

Anyhoo … I don’t know about you, poppets, but one thing is for sure ... one will certainly never be able to enjoy the song Beat it in the same way again and all in all the very thought of such things has left a funny taste in one’s mouth.

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