Now, I am not so sure if he was crooning or howling – but either way, yech, double vomit, throw-up, burp, and lingering acid reflux. I mean, someone better hose him down.
On no, wait – that happened last week.
Oh yeah, genius, that’s me. Last Saturday, Hasmiron, Sham and me were went against our parol officers’ wish – to not go near 30m parameter radius of any karaoke joint! - and sing! (Which undoubtedly sending professional vocal coaches scurrying to their textbooks to discover whether some random incoherent, gibberish is an actual ‘singing’!)
I don’t really need to go into all the reasons why would anyone want to shove a mini-hot curling iron in the ears and open it, but suffice to say when we do, garage doors go flying, cars combust and dogs run into traffic. We sound pretty much like a bunch of hyenas on helium.
No, I don’t mean to exaggerate but If you were there with us, everything will become clear to you - you’ll wish you could shove your ears with a hot curling iron too!
I mean, how else did I write this post without using the blood from my bleeding ears?