BOO, KARAOKE!

After lighting up my pipe I ran into gangster uncle going into one of the mah jong parlours. Hadn't seen him in ages, and my first uncharitable thought was "oh good, they released him early for good behaviour". But I doubt that he was in the big house, he's too wily for that, and he probably delegates, so he very likely has plausible deniability in any case.
Sadly, he and the others no longer frequent the same place.

Back in the day several "iffy" gentlemen went to that dive. And strange things happened. The current owner is much more stable than her predecessor was in the last years, and does not tolerate people acting up. But it's okay if they sing badly.
Karaoke is a truly absymal thing.
Though profitable.


There were too many people enjoying karaoke this evening so the bookseller and myself headed toward saner shores. A more mature place, even though the "most dangerous man in Northbeach" often patronizes it. He's a pothead, and goes there relatively early.
The karaoke fans are mostly shiftless honkies who stay up late.
The most dagerous man is out of it by then.
And there is no karaoke there.
Nor many honkies.

I rather doubt that gangster uncle ever goes there.
Or Michael. Or Fatty. Or the titty groper.

For some reason karaoke always makes me think of vehicular fires. Maybe it's the lack of sound judgement, the similarity to alarms going off, or the spectacular disaster of someone singing badly at the top of their lungs for a rapt or petrified audience.

Maybe it's because karaoke calls for a jerrycan of petrol.


Thank you for pouring your heart into it. Now get help.


Other than that, the other thing this evening that struck me, during my first cup of tea, was that someone really needs to buy all the rights to Capitol OK Whiskey and bring that brand back. If only so that they can use the pale fleshy nude as brand ambassadrice or mascot.

Also, why is karaoke permitted indoors in commercial establishments?
But pipesmoking, which is much more tolerable, isn't.
This makes little sense.



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