When Inspiration Hits...Just Go With It.

So I'm sitting here working (work shmirk. reading blogs and texting), listening to my iPhone on iPod mode and then I hear this:

They told 'em don't you ever come around. hee-Ya!

Don't wanna see yo face you betta disapee-Ya!

That's right folks! Michael. Jackson. I immediately jump out of my chair onto my desk kick my leg out and grab my crotch, did some pelvic thrusts and starting singing at the of my lungs!

Doing the moonwalk atop the cubicle walls, snapping my fingers!

Like a champ!

Who's a Champ?

I'm a champ.

Everywhere A-Champ.Champ.

Okay, I didn't. But I wanted to.

(for the record: I'm still a Champ.) (What? Denial?! Where???)

It was like this surge of energy rushing through my body with the beat of BEAT IT!

Am I the only one who feels this when I hear some old school Michael? I'm thinking no. (lie to me-my blog, my rules).