you know, you just haven’t lived until you’ve heard 40 people from 62 different countries sing “the land down under”.

mostly out of key.

it’s a visceral sort of feeling.

i mean…is a vegemite sandwich really that iconic?

(as a fan of marmite i really don’t know just how to take that.)

i was, however, in a strange ‘watching a train wreck’ kind of way, looking forward to the chunder part.

then, a few beers later, the ladies got to that part of the evening where they remembered all those assholes that somehow couldn’t live up to their expectations and, since they weren’t there to berate, decided to open up a big ol’ can of  “i will survive” on the rest of us.

of course the gangstas had to stand up and represent.

i was truly in awe.

as in “awe, shit, why couldn’t i have just gotten a couple of beers and gone home?”

by this time i was beginning to understand why it is always better to ARRIVE at a party drunk and high rather than to go sober and straight and try to catch up.

and then came “the voice”.

you know how, when things seem darkest in your life and you’re almost ready to just give up, you suddenly see a light that shows you the way out of the pit?

that’s what “the voice” is at a karaoke party.

it’s like an angel coming and putting her arm around you to say “lighten up, every little thing’s gonna be alright.”

or was it the back-to-back shots of Jim Beam?



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