Gotham, I don't think you're really helping

New Age doofus, Deepak Chopra, was good friends with Michael Jackson. In a eulogy on the Huffington Post, he talks about Jackson and how his son, Gotham, spent lots of time with Jackson and Deepak never worried for a second about all those icky molestation claims. Good for him.

Gotham also writes a eulogy. The comments afterward are all "Oh, what a touching story!" and "I have tears in my eyes." and "Beautiful!" Bleh.

The story is actually deeply sad and disturbing not because of Jackson's death but because it shows what too much celebrity and wealth can do to a person. Gotham writes of times when he'd go down to Jackson's apartment to help the King of Pop write lyrics.

I'd wander downtown with a backpack full of dictionaries, and thesauri, and rhyming books. Michael would hum songs and talk about what he wanted to say with the song and we'd try and marry our skillsets and come up with something. We came up with great stuff. Michael swore me to secrecy those days. I happily complied. After we were done with those sessions - they'd usually go until about 2 AM or so - Michael would wander into the bathroom and come out with a sack he'd pulled out from under the toilet. In it, he kept several thousands of dollars. He'd ask me how much I wanted. I just sort of shrugged and he'd hand me a couple of thousand dollars.

Then there's this.

Michael was always envious when I told him about my adventures with my friends. More than a few times, he'd get dressed up - dawning some sort of quasi-disguise - preparing to go with me, only to back down at the last minute or be held back by his security who would shake their heads and plainly say no to his misguided ambitions. Instead, he'd pour himself a tall glass of orange juice and settle in for the night to watch an old movie on TV, telling me to spend a few extra bucks for him. I happily complied.

And this is just . . .

Back to those college days. One night he did call me in a panic. He had just gotten married to Lisa Marie Presley and needed advice - sex advice. He was incredibly nervous and said that he wanted to make sure that Lisa was impressed with his "moves." He asked me if I had any advice. I answered with one word: "foreplay."

"Really?" He answered. "Girls really like that?"

Ew.

Just on what planet is this "beautiful" and "touching"?