Some people call me the space cowboy.
Yeah! Some call me the gangster of love.
Some people call me Maurice,
‘Cause I speak of the pompatus of love.
Despite my earlier experiences I participated in a karaoke night again. This time is wasn’t nearly as much of a disaster as last time. Not to say it wasn’t a disaster though. I rocked out AC/DC’s (I wish my keyboard had a lighting bolt symbol on it) “Back In Black”. It’s a great song for karaoke because you can basically scream the whole thing. I had always thought that I had wanted this song as my theme tune. A theme tune, in my ideal world, is the song that plays behind me anytime I enter a room full of friends, family, or strangers. It doesn’t play when I enter toilets, funerals, or hospitals.
I haven’t decided if it’s necessary for one to be able to at least sing along to the entire song before it is allowed to become your theme tune. Or maybe just knowing the words should be enough. If either of those requirements are put into place, I have some work to do before I can claim “Back In Black” as my theme song.
I think I brought the house down though, despite my screwing up what I thought was the “daddy loose mama goose” line. My apologies go out to the old man in the front row who was so horrified by my performance, and his experience, that he refused to look me in the eye during the entire song.
On a not-so-completely different subject, I have a new book review up.