Friday, July 14, 2017

DOES YOUR MOM KNOW?

What does the mature middle-aged badger do after consuming a delicious repast guaranteed to disquietify his digestion? why, he goes around the corner for some whisky and horrific karaoke, of course!
My friend the bookseller is still in doubt about karaoke having any possible redeeming qualities. My ex-girlfriend and still current apartment mate has threatened to do songs (heavy metal blood and gore anthems). And my stuffed animals would be dynamite singers, or at least psychologically twisted enough to do it.


FIRST WHISKY

Somebody loses a five dollar bill while 'The Legal Beagles' are doing the Oakland Booty song. She accuses a nearby table of stealing it. The bar-tender assures her that that is 'Anna Bananana', who is too drunk to even notice a fiver. The Legal Beagles are all white, more so as they sing.
Everybody claps. It took great courage to do that.
The dogs return to their seats.
Smirking.

SECOND WHISKY

Smoke outside, small cigarillo. Tall hipster tries to eat a slice of pizza and score simultaneously. Gets cheese all over his front, is un-aware of this. Understandably the middle-aged fake blonde does not want a "friendly" hug. The badger enjoys his smoke while studiously looking away.

Back upstairs, Mistah Shidz is manufacturing a blunt. Pot is legal now, and his physique says "cuddle me with the munchies". In addition to prime bud his bag also contains Oreos.

The somebody that lost the five dollar bill is sharing a long drink with somebody who has a silver booger hanging from her nose.

THIRD WHISKY

We've listened to several horrible songs. The remnants of the Legal Beagles have massacred a seventies classic, which was a hit when their parents were still teenagers.

Mistah Shidz has consumed the second blunt, he's out of it. The somebody who lost the fiver is now sharing gloss lipstick and fashion tips with silver nose booger girl.

Somebody is wailing at the mike about drugs.

Perhaps unintentionally ironic.

I do not sing, at all.

You are lucky.



It was a good evening. I saw too much thong, and too many tattoos.


The Legal Beagles left; young, drunk, and happy.




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2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Nothing goes better with horrific karaoke than whisky!
The blunts aren't consumed inside, while you are forced to the curb?

The back of the hill said...

You know, I don't know where the blunts were smoked. I don't smoke pot, so I stayed inside watching their drinks while they went outside.

And I'm assuming that as joints get passed around, germs do too.

It's a repulsive habit.

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