Singing ted.

Hello world. I demand ransom. Or else I will burst into song and dance.

So I went kaaaaaaaaareeeokeying for the first time yesterday night. Dragged by a bunch of koreeean people. You go into this niiiiiiiice cushy private booth room (and lots of hot girls danc… wait no nevermind…) and theys got this nice seizure inducing dance ball mounted to the ceiling. And everyone gather around two microphones, picks two victims to sing and enters numbers into the cool wireless remote. And then images of people sliding down water slides and of boaters and of landscapes all over the world (don’t ask me why, i do not know, i don’t know, i just… don’t know. and i don’t think i’ll ever understand) queue up and then the lyrics come on screen and then BAAAM the victims are singing, and the listeners are looking around to see who’ll crack first and run out of the room screaming “NO MORE oh for the love of god no more.”

Except they sing good. They sing real good. I’m sitting in the room crawling into the cushy sofa thingy calculating how far I need to shrink down into the sofa before they’ll not see me. And I think i think if i managed to squish another 2 or 3 inches down I would have made it. Damn my tallness. And so I get to sing HERO by Enrique Inglasomelatindude. Dude. That song is FUCKING HARD. Everyone loses.

But wait. There’s more. I being the ExtraordinarilyMoronicIdioticStupidLOSAR that I am thought there was some sort of voice altering thingy that makes your voice song a bit more like the song. NO… NO….. NO. NO. It’s a microphone. Nothing else.

I launch into my heart..wrenching song completely monotone… and as I hear my voice come back at me, there’s that sinking time dilation feeling of OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH shhhhhhhhhiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit wwwwwwhhhhhhaaaaaaaaat diiiiid i geeeeeeet myself intoooooooooooooooo…..

It’s always a funny feeling when your eyes bulge out of their sockets.

A few hasty threatening “i’ll kill you if you don’t sing” glares at my friend convinces her to join me in the song. And so I am saved. Sort of.

Eventually my yells of “It’s over guys” lures the others back into the room.

The night goes on, the singing gets better. There’s a cool scoring thing at the end of every song that tells each person how they did. People got a few 100s. I got a 85. (hip hip hooray)

I end with Aerosmith “I don’t wanna miss a thing” Everyone’s too tired to run. YAAAAAAAAh. Actually I’m pretty decent with that. Heh. anyways. KAREOKE IS ODD KOREAN CULTURE THING. I DO NOT SING LATIN AMERICAN SONGS. AND I WANT ONE MILLION DOLLARS OR I WILL SING HERO ON NATIONAL TV.