Karaokillme

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Guess what I did this weekend? Guess who I have a new found respect for?  People who sing in public.  People who sing in public in tune.  People who sing in public in tune for a living.  After Saturday night, I am fairly certain I will never be one of these people.

I spent Saturday night at Karaoke Melody celebrating a friend’s birthday the way that makes her happy: with lots of sake and show tunes.  I’m not exactly sure how I’ve made it these 28 years of life without having to karaoke but I’m pretty sure no one will mind if another 28 passes without my participation.

Karaoke Melody has private rooms with thousands of songs in their playlist for endless hours of drunken off-key singing.  There is also a full bar at the entrance where I enjoyed chatting up the inebriated bartenders and patrons when I needed a break from Grease and Chicago duets.  My favorite song of the evening was a joint effort between myself and the birthday girl of Sid Vicious’ version of “My Way.”  I think we would have made Sid proud.  Personally, my eardrums will never be the same.

Once again, Buford Highway has proved itself a magical funland of possibilities and smorgasbord of cultural entertainment.  While we are on one of my favorite topics, does anyone know the origins of Buford Highway? Who was the first ethnic group to land there and decide, this is it? This will be my stretch of land, henceforth.  My friends love me and like to humor me so they suggested I do some research and write a book about it.  But, part of me doesn’t want to unravel the mystery.  I don’t really need to know where all of those tacos, streams of bakeries, and noodle soups originated.  I just seek solace in the fact that they are there for the taking whenever I am in need of a transcendent experience.

And Big Props to D for performing a song I had never heard of called “Cuban Pete” and hitting all of the lyrics below to a freaking T.  A feat so grand I almost pissed myself watching.

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