ladybroblog:

by Julia Prescott

I first fell in love with karaoke when I was 12 years old, in the back of Numero Uno Pizza on Victory and Coldwater Cyn in the San Fernando Valley. Plucked from a table of other similarly awkward Girl Scouts and led to the small foot-high platform to sing by myself in front of a crowd of strangers, I could feel my nervousness ratchet it’s way through my tiny pubescent frame in a sensation I’ve [thankfully] only ever experienced the first time I ever told jokes in front of strangers. 

What makes karaoke a perfect defiantly bold hobby is the fact that the turn-around of terror to obsession is about as closely tied together as a timid 10-year old who rides a rollercoaster for the first time and pleads to never get out of its cramped quarters - that is to say, after you’ve done one song the wait time til your next musical number feels like years away in anticipation. 

In the recent string of Friday and Monday nights that I’ve spent cradling a mic in the hands of someone who has never, and will never actually be a rock star but can pretend as well as the next person, I’ve gathered a few things about the sing-a-long songs of choice and what they could say about the people I only know as “Garth Brooks guy” or “Journey girl”. I’ve outlined my observations below.*

*Why any of this matters is all very trivial. It’s not like we’re training for anything, vying to win any trophy laden with product placement on some internationally renown TV show. We’re not even trying to get laid!** 

**Though I will reveal the strange creature that I am and the fact that anyone who does karaoke REAL WELL and REALLY SELLS IT makes me weak in my knees. I have the same strange reaction when guys wear a sweater vest instead of it wearing them, as well as other manly man things. But this is a post that belongs neither in front of your face, nor on my hypothetical OK Cupid profile.

Read More

my main lady julia cold DROPS IT ON YOUR HEADS. Don’t be a Karaoke Goofus, be a Karaoke Gallant.

Source: ladybroblog