Boo! One of the beautiful black goddesses I used to worship as a kid has sadly passed away. At age 63, cancer has claimed the life of Donna Summer. She was so pretty–I wanted to look just like her. I remember my mom had a long, curly wig that I used to sneak and wear and sing her songs in the mirror with my pencil-microphone.

I would imagine myself looking like this:

Okay, time to have a good old fashioned Irish wake with all the requisite booze-filled toasts. Who cares if it’s only 10:40 AM PST? It’s 5:00 somewhere. Tell me your favorite Donna Summer stories before I go into a stupor.