We Are The Kings of Kareoke, Nate Rules All
9/30
For my Thursday night, I go out with Jeff, Nate, Jaime and my roommate Dave. We head on down to Randy's Grill & Chill (yes, that really is the name of the bar) for some kareoke. Now, I hate to be shallow...oh wait, no I don't. We are easily the most talented and attractive people in this place. For the second week in a row. I personally start off by performing Journey's "Don't Stop Believin'", which is funny when you consider that I sing about as low as anyone can sing, and Journey is not low. I still suck way less than anyone I've heard before me.
Sometime after that, the guy who runs kareoke at another Lincoln area bar (which shall remain nameless) comes over to talk to Jeff and Nate, and brag about his recent engagement. He points out his fiancée, and I think to myself, "Wow...you can have her, buddy." He tells us how he's going to perform Dave Matthews Band's "Crash Into Me", but he's not sure how it'll go since he only knows the techno version. I hate him already. This guy is the sort of individual who doesn't realize that he has no reason to be as arrogant as he clearly is. He gets up there and unbuttons his shirt halfway, exposing his hairy, hairy chest, and proceeds to produce a really mediocre rendition of a really good song. Welcome to kareoke. Nobody is impressed at his chest or his vocals, including his fiancée. Dave is getting furious, because this is the song on which he solos for our A Capella group, and he does much better than this guy. Watching Dave get furious is one of the more frequent and amusing occurrences of my life. If you don't like unnecessary screaming at people who can't hear you, never ride in Dave's car. I have fun drinking my beer and watching as Dave can't help but get pissed and sing his own version so that he can't hear the guy's butchery.
We talk Nate into performing "Come On Feel The Noise" by Quiet Riot. We are all very excited to hear this. A little backstory here: Nate can't sing. If I were a choir director, I would not, under any circumstances, want Nate in my choir. The guy just can't carry a tune. Nate can, however, scream his fucking lungs out. Somehow the act of screaming in high tenor range enables him to find a key. If you find the right song for Nate, he will deliver the most amazing kareoke performance you've ever seen, and Quiet Riot is no exception. Nate sings at least a third too high for the first half of the song. It rocks anyhow. He finds the key after the bridge. It rocks harder. I can't stop laughing and throwing up the two handed "rock on" sign and Randy himself (of Randy's Grill & Chill) turns around to us to voice his amazement. We inform him that Nate is nothing short of a Kareoke Jesus. By this time we've turned in several solid performances, and once Nate comes back, Randy tells us he wants to buy us all a shot. Our whole table is given a shot of something grape tasting, and we all thank Randy and head home at closing time. We are all pleased with ourselves about how much we fucking rule for being the big fish in our little kareoke pond.
I stop at McDonald's buy my second $1 double cheeseburger of the night on the way home. While waiting to order at the drive through, I start doing a Harry Carey impersonation because it was somehow relevant to the conversation Dave and I were having. The girl comes over the speaker to ask if I'm o.k. We find this hilarious. She clearly doesn't realize I was doing an imitation and thinks I'm just that drunk. I apologize for frightening the drive-thru girl, get my cheeseburger, go home, and go to bed. All in all, it's a good night.
For my Thursday night, I go out with Jeff, Nate, Jaime and my roommate Dave. We head on down to Randy's Grill & Chill (yes, that really is the name of the bar) for some kareoke. Now, I hate to be shallow...oh wait, no I don't. We are easily the most talented and attractive people in this place. For the second week in a row. I personally start off by performing Journey's "Don't Stop Believin'", which is funny when you consider that I sing about as low as anyone can sing, and Journey is not low. I still suck way less than anyone I've heard before me.
Sometime after that, the guy who runs kareoke at another Lincoln area bar (which shall remain nameless) comes over to talk to Jeff and Nate, and brag about his recent engagement. He points out his fiancée, and I think to myself, "Wow...you can have her, buddy." He tells us how he's going to perform Dave Matthews Band's "Crash Into Me", but he's not sure how it'll go since he only knows the techno version. I hate him already. This guy is the sort of individual who doesn't realize that he has no reason to be as arrogant as he clearly is. He gets up there and unbuttons his shirt halfway, exposing his hairy, hairy chest, and proceeds to produce a really mediocre rendition of a really good song. Welcome to kareoke. Nobody is impressed at his chest or his vocals, including his fiancée. Dave is getting furious, because this is the song on which he solos for our A Capella group, and he does much better than this guy. Watching Dave get furious is one of the more frequent and amusing occurrences of my life. If you don't like unnecessary screaming at people who can't hear you, never ride in Dave's car. I have fun drinking my beer and watching as Dave can't help but get pissed and sing his own version so that he can't hear the guy's butchery.
We talk Nate into performing "Come On Feel The Noise" by Quiet Riot. We are all very excited to hear this. A little backstory here: Nate can't sing. If I were a choir director, I would not, under any circumstances, want Nate in my choir. The guy just can't carry a tune. Nate can, however, scream his fucking lungs out. Somehow the act of screaming in high tenor range enables him to find a key. If you find the right song for Nate, he will deliver the most amazing kareoke performance you've ever seen, and Quiet Riot is no exception. Nate sings at least a third too high for the first half of the song. It rocks anyhow. He finds the key after the bridge. It rocks harder. I can't stop laughing and throwing up the two handed "rock on" sign and Randy himself (of Randy's Grill & Chill) turns around to us to voice his amazement. We inform him that Nate is nothing short of a Kareoke Jesus. By this time we've turned in several solid performances, and once Nate comes back, Randy tells us he wants to buy us all a shot. Our whole table is given a shot of something grape tasting, and we all thank Randy and head home at closing time. We are all pleased with ourselves about how much we fucking rule for being the big fish in our little kareoke pond.
I stop at McDonald's buy my second $1 double cheeseburger of the night on the way home. While waiting to order at the drive through, I start doing a Harry Carey impersonation because it was somehow relevant to the conversation Dave and I were having. The girl comes over the speaker to ask if I'm o.k. We find this hilarious. She clearly doesn't realize I was doing an imitation and thinks I'm just that drunk. I apologize for frightening the drive-thru girl, get my cheeseburger, go home, and go to bed. All in all, it's a good night.
posted by Beav at 1:10 PM
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