I once did a pub crawl with Going.com which, of course, means that I have to get their emails in perpetuity for the rest of my life. Now don’t get me wrong, I could care less, but this marketing email (pictured below) that I got about a “Tribute to Michael Jackson: King of Pop Pub Crawl” struck me as a bit tacky.

I personally think it’s pretty scummy to marry yourself to some sort of tragedy to make money, but hey, whatever works. I don’t think that “moonwalking down 2nd Avenue” is going to cut it though. If you’re going to do a Michael Jackson “tribute,” do it all the way. Let’s get a Brooke Shields look alike to walk out of a bar with me, then try to kiss me as a I go, “Oh, look at the time! Gotta go!” then vomit in a garbage pail for an hour. Then let me flamboyantly smash the shit out of a car like it was my abusive stage father. Then we can cruise by a playground where I make vague but inappropriate gestures towards kids and ultimately pass out in a gutter after getting painkillers injected straight into my bloodstream. Now THAT sounds like good times. So long as I don’t have to throw Clorox on my skin at some point. Not sure I’d pay for that one.