Father's Day Dance-Off

We played a little Michael Jackson Experience up at Levi's brother's house today. It's an XBox Kinect game that requires one to dance along with Michael Jackson backup dancers to Michael Jackson songs. The little magic box makes a hologram of the person in front of it up on the T.V., so you get to watch yourself doing whatever you're supposed to be doing. It's designed to make you feel bad about yourself and your whiteness. Which makes me think Jacko's fade from black to white was a purposeful and cruel joke on we pale, beat-less folk. I only want to think that because it makes Michael a little more funny, a little less I-moved-arcade-games-into-my-hotel-rooms-and-named-my-children-after-lame-inanimate-objects weird. Blanket? Weird. Grab your crotch while balancing on your toes and tilting your fedora over your brow while you're white? Totally awesome.

We stuck to Michael Jackson Experience Thriller and Bad and Smooth Criminal, which turned out to be funny later when Levi was dancing with Thelonious and making up his own words -- you've been hit by...you've been struck by...a smooth fox terrier. (This is where I'm supposed to insert a photoshopped photo of Thelonious wearing a sparkly glove, but that takes effort, and this is a half-assed blog). Blow job points for Levi, am I right? I refused to dance because I'm shy when I'm not drunk or brimming with coffee cake and egg souffle. These things make me either A) uninteresting, or B) a nasty You Tube video waiting to happen. But I now do desire an XBox Kinect just so I could practice Michael Jackson moves in the privacy of my souffle-free T.V. room. I'm tired of having to break out the sprinkler at weddings and parites, and I think my friends and family deserve better.