Saturday, February 28, 2009

Welcome to the freak show

*image courtesy of

Amelia says -

We joined the freak show last night. The Beast, the Prima Donna and the Amazing Downer of Vodka Sevens. Who else was there? Some old rocker we named Hotel California. Two young guys who felt no shame about belting out pop songs while throwing their gangsta hands up all over the place - subsequently dubbed Korn.

Can you guess where we were yet? Yep - Karaoke

Also known as the place where complete strangers flaunt their vulnerabilities while crooning to a roomful of increasingly more inebriated people. The place where freak flags fly.

Speaking of freaks, you didn‘t quite fit in. But not for a lack of trying. You were respectfully dressed - you even tucked your shirt in. Kind of good looking. You told me I was a great singer which was instant proof that you are deaf because I sound like a combination of the tea kettle (that high pitched squeal) and a horse being flogged. But you seemed cute and like you were trying to impress me. Then you asked what song I had sung with Ava over there - "I Touch Myself". Said you were pretty sure that while I was singing I was looking at you (although I'm pretty sure I was drunkenly squinting at the tv screen trying to read the lyrics). You said I should sing something by the Spice Girls. I respectfully declined. You followed with “if you won’t sing the Spice Girls you need to give me your number”.

This is where I started to reassess your freakiness. I thought at first you were just slumming. Checking out how the other side lives. Then I thought, is he the Great Illogicator? If you don’t understand, let me try again. IF you won’t sing the Spice Girls … you NEED to give me your number. I’m missing the corelation. Then it hit me. Mr Bad Line.

Now, I’m not saying this because you were more of a freak than anyone else there, including my own little posse - just the wrong kind of freak. The last person you want to be is Mr Bad Line because the only girl you are going to start a future with is Ms Dim Wit. I’m giving you some constructive criticism.

There’s nothing wrong with going out as a freak but go big or go home.

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