I know that’s a terrible thing to say, but it’s all I could keep thinking on Friday night when news broke that the Poison front man had been rushed to the hospital after suffering “a massive subarachnoid hemorrhage (bleeding at the base of his brain stem)” and that he was in critical condition.

Because let’s be real: Michaels is a tool. He’s made his career on being a tool. But that doesn’t mean he deserves to die, and it doesn’t mean that I never enjoyed a Poison album. If you read this site regularly, you know we like the old Poison records; yes, they’re absolutely retarded, and they haven’t aged well at all (assuming you ever thought they were “well” in the first place), but crank that shit at a bar at 3 a.m. and you’ll suddenly find strangers and possibly even enemies engaging in a group sing-along faster than you can say “Don’t threaten me with a good time.” Striking a balance between his idiocy and my enjoyment (or Vince’s enjoyment, for that matter) of some of his work would be a tough proposition.

So, for now at least, let’s just say this: yes, Bret Michaels is a buffoon. But we sincerely hope he makes it through this okay, and has many more years of buffoonery ahead of him.

-AR