The Voices In My Head: O'Riley's World, the column

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THE BEST OF O'RILEY'S WORLD, THE COLUMN

Michael and Lisa Marie: Over My Dead Body

Tim O'Riley

What a union. The daughter of the King of Rock'n'Roll, a man everyone initially thought was black, marries the self-annointed King of Pop, a man everyone now thinks is white. Confused? Don't be, it's just further proof that this thing called "love" remains the mystery eternal.

Lisa Marie Presley, Elvis' little girl, has confirmed rumors that on May 26, in a hasty wedding ceremony in the Dominican Republic, she did indeed marry Michael Jackson. The question on everyone's mind is: WHY? Why would Lisa Marie, an incredibly rich and beautiful woman, marry the mechanized man/boy Michael Jackson?

Did he sweep her off her feet? Can he even lift her?

Maybe it was love at first sight. If so, it has to be a classic case of narcicism gone mad because they look an awful lot alike. Fair skin, dark hair, little upturned noses, high cheekbones, dainty lips, lots of teeth. Of course, Lisa Marie's looks are the result of good genes while Michael's are the biproduct of Clorox Bleach, silicon gel, and automobile bondo, kind of a high-tech Mr. Potato Head.

Many speculate that this is more business merger than true love. Combined, the happy couple is worth over $250 million. Heck, I'd marry Lisa Marie for that kind of dough. Who am I kidding? I'd marry Michael!

And while everyone else is wondering what the outcome of this strange union will be, I'm more curious about the proposal itself. Through my sources at the Jackson camp (Tito and the O'Riley Man went to Weight Watcher's together in the late seventies), I've managed to get my hands on an audio tape that was recorded during some of the happy couple's most private moments. What follows is a partial transcript of the tape.

Michael: Lisa Marie, I've got something to ask you. Heeee!
Lisa Marie: Go ahead, teddy bear.
Michael: Lisa Marie, since you're not married and I'm not married and seeing as how your kids need a strong male figure in their lives and I just love kids, why don't we get married? Together we can rule over the richest empire in the music business, wash away those nasty rumors that I'm a child molester, clear up any doubts about my sexuality, and make all your Scientology friends happy in one swoop. Heeee!
Lisa Marie: Cool, baby.

How romantic. But what was their wedding night like? Thanks to Tito, we can now find out.

Lisa Marie: Mikey, why don't you come over here and lay down beside me? This bed sure is comfy. And I'm so lonesome tonight."
Michael: Not now, Billie Jean, I'm playing with my monkey. Come here, Bubbles. Heeee!
Lisa Marie: Oh, leave that monkey alone and come over here, my Oreo cookie. I'll love you tender.
Michael: But Lisa Marie, I just covered my face with a primer coat.
Lisa Marie: Come on, hound dog. I've got a hunka, hunka burnin' love for you.
Michael: But Lisa Marie, I just had these Ninja Turtle pajamas cleaned and pressed.
Lisa Marie: Ooh, Mikey, my leg's startin' to shake. My lips are curlin' for you. Moonwalk over here and let's play kissin' cousins.
Michael: Oh lordy, Bubbles. My suspicious mind tells me I'm caught in a trap!

Not a pretty picture, huh. While I wish the happy couple all the best, I do hope they never reproduce. Can you imagine what Michael Jackson's kid would look like? Neither can I, but I'm sure it wouldn't resemble him.

Oh well, love is a beautiful thing, ain't it.

Uh huh.

Heeee!