Well This is Just Awful

Awful. Horrific. Grim. And sad. David Carradine, dead in Bangkok. When I went to Bangkok I got a blissful yet excruciatingly painful Thai massage and had to spend the rest of the evening in the hotel bar recovering. When David Carradine went to Bangkok he ended up dead and naked in a hotel closet with rope tied around his junk. (What different lives people lead.)

Now, we really don't know what happened to Mr. Carradine. But all signs point to that whole auto-erotic death jerk-off that Oprah warned us about back in the early 90s. And that's just a shame, because, let's face it: anyone who dies of auto-erotic asphyxiation is going to be remembered for that first. Or maybe second. Whenever "Don't Change" or "Johnson's Aeroplane" by INXS pops up on my iPod, my first thought is: I love this song. My second thought? It's such a shame Michael Hutchins masturbated himself to death.

God knows, we all love to spank it. It's fun! Personally, I would never go in for the whole tying a rope around my neck and such for extra pleasure because I'm far too much of a klutz, and it's pretty much a scientific certainty that I would die and, eventually, my cat Stella would eat my face. But yes, masturbation is fun and a totally normal activity. Nobody wants to be found dead after indulging, though. I would be horrified to discover that my dead body was found naked, underwear on my head, half-eaten Little Debbie snack cake in my hand, back arched over a yoga balance ball, bare feet soaking in a bowl of Canola oil. That would be so embarrassing! And it would end up being the second thing I was remembered for.

To conclude, I really hope there's a perfectly good alternative explanation for why the dead body of David Carradine—Kung Fu legend, remember that first!—was found in such a state that we just haven't thought of yet.