You know how black guys talk like this, but white guys talk like this?

Last night I went to karaoke with my friend who’s in from out of town. I got there late, as I had a work meeting (which, by the way, took two and a half hours…what a bunch of bullshit. They DID have wine, which was good, but come on, man! The meeeting was about ninety percent for the waitresses, and then after they let everyone go, the bartenders got a little talking to for another twenty minutes. I don’t know how many times a person can roll their eyes and think ‘really? We’re still talking about this?’ but I must have come close to the maximum potential for a human being.) so I didn’t sing, and I missed my other buddy doing Wind of Change by the Scorpions, which is kind of a bummer. I was, however, treated to some of the crappiest dog-shit-mixed-with-sulphur renditions of some of the crappiest songs in the universe. This asian guy is doing kiss from a rose by Seal? Are you fucking serious? And he’s not even hitting the high note in the chorus. That’s the hook, Asian guy. That’s THE HOOK.
THEN the girl that runs the karaoke machine (too good looking for that job, but not really ‘good looking’. She just doesn’t look like the bemulleted fat asses in perpetually tinted glasses that usually run karaoke machines [or the slightly less popular, but still prevalent ponytailed Steven-Segal-picking-up-a- little-extra-scratch-after-the-dojo-closes karaoke guys]) sang that song by Nickelback. Uh, what’s it called? I don’t know. It’s the hit, though. “I been down, I been out to the bottom of every bottle” or something like that. Now, I, like you, thought that the dude in Nickelback had created the worst version of this song, or indeed any song, but I was wrong. This girl (and I honestly don’t believe that I’m about to type this) BUTCHERED a song by NICKLEBACK! How do you even do that? That’s like doing something that creeps out John Wayne Gacy. That’s like saying something that’s too racist for the head of the Klan to get behind. That’s like being so hopelessly out of touch with reality and your place in the world that your potential ascent into the white house makes George Bush look rational, well spoken, worldly and well informed by comparison. It’s nearly impossible. But it’s happening. It’s all happening. I just hope Barack wins and the Cubs win, that way, we’ll have World Series rings in Wrigley, a black dude in charge of America and when the frogs start falling from the sky and Sarah Palin says “Told you the rapture was a-comin!” we can say, You fucking evangelical dipshits should be kissing our Anti-American, anti god, anti family, anti living baby asses right now. Because now that all the crazy hippy abortionists voted for the brother and the NATIONAL LEAGUE CHAMPS the Chicago Cubs finally brought it home, you can meet your Jesus, and he can tell you, first hand how FUCKING BACKWARDS you are. um...
Okay, so anyhow, this bitch was terrible at karaoke. She kept on going too. And I was there with all these people I went to highschool with, but didn’t really know. Oh, I remember the Michod twins, but fuck if I can still tell them apart. There was the guy who looks like an ugly Pete Wentz (I know, how’s that possible? Wentz is beauty incarnate, right? It’s possible.) and some other guy. I went to a highschool that was kind of overrun by hippies…actually, that’s unfair. I went to highschool at a TIME overrun by hippies. The most pathetic, lame hippies that the world has ever seen.
Man! Those tough, socially pyrotechnic early nineties! Thank god there were faux hippies (and their bullshit BULLSHIT music-remember phish? Remember the Black Crowes, the Counting Crows, the Spin Doctors. Oh, man. I’m getting red just writing this. Listen, if you’re one of those people who likes one of these bands, that’s fine. Really. Just know, you have terrible taste. There is no debate on this point. [and don’t give me the bullshit ‘oh, the counting crows don’t belong with those other bands.” Wrong. They do. They suck. Terribly. That bullshit pastiche-y visual art by way of vague lyrics about mystical vagabonds schtick is tired. If you can’t see that dildo for the hack he is, you know what? You deserve your favorite band the Counting Crows. Go ahead, take em. Sheesh. Anyway…]) fighting the power while America enjoyed relative prosperity and a decent global reputation. God. I played with a hackey sack. It sickens me. It’s like saying I used to watch the girls gym class shower or something. It just feels dirty now.
So, these people from my highschool, I think they still kind of looked like hippies. One of them was in red sweatpants for sure. I don’t know. I bet they all have more money than I do. Dumb hippies.
Uh, long story short, I had two high lifes and went home. Big night. Today, I have to write a skit for my class. I’m thinking either a NAMBLA meeting or a chronic masturbator’s anonymous meeting where every time someone starts talking (“this girl on the bus, whenever I smell her hair, I just…”) everyone in the meeting starts beating off. You know, cuz they’re all chronic masturbators. No good huh? Okay, back to the lab. XOxo