As you find yourself behind bars, I find myself craving chocolate ones. Meanwhile you are possibly wishing you could be in one; dancing under the influence of ecstasy while embracing a Zac Effron look-alike under a strobe. Ahhh, good times… But you know what I’ve discovered? Life, relationships, illegal activities and tampons are all the same. There’s ALWAYS strings attached.
In all the years you’ve been part of my life (about two thirds of it now), I never thought the time would come that I would be sending you a letter to say something other than “I love you, and yes. You can have my sex.”
However G, it’s time. I only write these letters (the ones I don’t send) to those who I feel need some guidance or advice from one who is removed and has nothing to gain. I’m just an ageing fan of an ageing pop star here to tell you how I see it.
So today I read you were denied bail. Denied bail? Not even Paris “I thought it was gum” Hilton was denied bail. And Tuesday night you were sentenced to serve four weeks in prison and spend the remaining 4 weeks on licence, (whatever that means…)
You were also banned from driving for five years, fined £1,250 and ordered to pay £100 in costs. All because after smashing into a shop front window, you were found slumped over the steering wheel of your Range Rover (exceptional choice of vehicle by the way) whilst high on cannabis.
Just goes to show that high isn’t really the correct term because last time I was slumped over anything I most certainly was not feeling high.
Anyway drugs. They’re bad. They might make you feel good temporarily… fleeting moments of calm and happiness or excitement and fulfilment. But as you know it’s not permanent. A criminal record is. Not that big a deal when you’re rich and famous I suppose….
“Give a WHAM, give a BAM, but don’t give a DAMN!” Great lyrics to dance to, but you seem to have taken it on board as your personal daily mantra.
It’s apparent that you’re not learning anything from your mistakes. Strings, George, STRINGS! There’s always a consequence.
So this jail time is for hitting a shop front back in July this year. But in August 2009 you smashed into truck pretty bad and were apparently ‘out of it.’ This happened right after you got your license legally reinstated, after having driven under the influence back in 2007.
Look it’s hard for me to tell you anything that doesn’t include praise or admiration. Back in 1988 when I was 14, you changed my life.
With fluke tickets to your FAITH tour and a ‘well beyond my years’ sense of maturity and sexuality… by the third song into your show, you’d told me you wanted my sex. You looked right at me and I know you meant it.
It didn’t matter that Marcus Eley: the new boy in tenth grade from New Zealand who joined the school basketball team, and was in my opinion; hotter than the bonnet of a Ferrari after completing a formula one…. wouldn’t look at me other than to tell me I was a hairy mammoth. Because what did he know?
Was HE famous? Was HE a pop star? Puh! I didn’t need him to want me because I knew deep down that you did. That moment at your concert, you gave me a superiority complex sense of confidence that carried me right through to womanhood.
I owe you George. So telling you this is not easy for me. But I have to say it. There are 3 kinds of ‘hits’ and you need to know the difference.
- Hit as in smash. Example: My car hit the window but I have no recollection…”
- Hit as in toke, pill or injection… with reference to using drugs. Example: “I just need one more hit and I’ll be fine.”
- Hit as in number one song or record. Example: George Michael has another hit record with his 5th song on the album going to number 1.”
LESS of numbers 1 and 2. MORE of number 3. Maybe even consider rehab. You’re getting predictable and boring and stupid and old and even slightly (don’t hate me) chubbs…. But I blame the munchies for that.
Your career is basically at the cleaners. You’re not totally washed up yet, but the soaps out and ready. You can’t exactly tour again without new stuff, but you have nothing new that’s any good. Was anyone but Perez Hilton and me even aware that you released a song last Christmas? Not the actual song, “Last Christmas.” I mean the song you wrote in December last year called “I Dreamed of Christmas.”
Your songs may get played at weddings and in gay clubs and at my house and in my car and in my head, and even at some popular venues on retro night, but it’s time for something new.
New music. The New George. Never to be arrested for drugs again. The George who knows all about strings.
Speaking of strings, and soap…. And getting arrested…
You might want to consider soap on a rope for the remaining weeks in prison. You and public bathrooms don’t have a great track record, and know what they say about dropping the soap….
So take care, and remember that you do have fans. We still love you but are concerned for your future. And we’re waiting George…. Waiting for your next real hit.
PS. Yes. Still can.