Vocal Stylings

Some times a girl just wants to sing. So, I gathered some friends, donned my favorite wig and headed out for a night of Karaoke.

I was unprepared for the events that were about to unfold.
First, the woman who was running the karaoke was the fugliest, roundest, most ill tempered woman that has ever registerd on my retinas. I mean, Jesus Christ, who wear sweat pants and a t-shirt to a night out? And mascara- a very small investment for a very large reward. She was very regimented in her control of this karaoke game which leads me to believe that she has little control over her own life (re: cat lady). This fug-monster would only let a handful of women sing, yet there was a high concentration of attractive hipster men…hmmm…I thought to myself, as she kept selecting the same men over and over again, never once calling my name. Then it occurred to me…she was using her karaoke power to get laid. By calling on the same hot, drunken men, she was keeping them happy and in a good mood and making them pliable so she could bend them to her sexual whims. Here is the dialogue of this lady’s brain…
“wow, there are some hit guys here tonight and they all want to sing karaoke. I control the karaoke. I am going to use my powers or evil and let these men sing and dance and cavort all they want, and then, they will be so grateful for my amazing loyalty, I will get finger banged.” Yeah, so me and my friends waite around or our names to be called while the same 10 people sang over and over again.

Second, we found a table that we hd to share with two of the gayest gays who ever gayed. This is not a problem normally, but it is when one of the gays gets so drunk that he has drunk himself straight. Yeah. One moment, I am casually drinking my PBR like a pro, the next, a gay is rubbing his stubbly face up nest to my cheek, kissing my ear and telling me I am beautiful. No. No. No. Not Okay. I mean, I don’t want to get AIDS, so yeah. He kept getting all close up on me and kissing on my face as I politely tried to not get face raped. His boyfreind, on the other hand, seemed to mis-judge the situation. Instead of being mad, he decided to buy Mr. Face McKisserson shots of Jager. I looked super angry/confused/scared for my vagina when it was explained to me that Jager always puts Rapey O’Kisserface to sleep. I was glad yet also sad. Glad because I wanted him to stop hugging me and putting his saliva all over the left side of my face. But I was sad because I want to have someone who knows how to handle me when I become inappropriate in social situations…such love.

There was going to be a thrid bullet about a Mexican Lawyer who was laid off and is couch surfing in Seattle until he takes the boards in Illinois or some shit, but frankly, he was so goddamn boring it is not worth the energy to type.

All in all, a well rounded evening.

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