Wacko Jacko Backo!

Who's bad?

Who's bad?

Good news for too-traumatised fans of the late, soi-disant King of Pop (TM).

Anyone whose life has seemed void of meaning since the world lost its finest exponent of shuffling backwards while appearing to lurch forwards will be delighted to learn that the crotch-grabbing non-kiddie botherer is, to paraphrase Jacques Brel, alive and well and apparently living in the Latvian seaside town of Jurmala!

The proof of his miraculous resurrection comes in the form of a poster advertising the best in Russian end-of-the-pier entertainment. There, modestly placed on the bill beneath the Slavic equivalents of Cannon & Ball and Daniel O’Donnell is Jacko himself, masquerading in the guise of one “Klara Novikova.”

He is.

He is.

Anyone who bought tickets to see the deceased warbler’s hilariously priced concerts at the Millennium Dome in London might like to try redeeming them in Jurmala instead where they can toast his continued reign over a couple of swift “Jesus Juices.”


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