Remember how I used to hate McGillan’s Olde Ale House, because they kicked me out on New Year’s Day? Well, now I got a new beef. I went to McGillan’s on Wednesday for karaoke. I had hoped to do “Flashdance…What a Feeling” because I rock that song. But a bum ankle made the accompanying dance number all but impossible. So I just watched. Ok, here’s the part where I start to get pissed. Some chick goes up there and does the Celine Dion song from Titanic. As if that wasn’t bad enough, a bunch of people in the crowd, instead of being disgusted and throwing silverware at her, starts singing along. EVEN A BLACK GUY! I don’t know about you, but I’ve kind of put black people up on a pedestal of koolness. Well, that all came crashing down. As did my opposition to the death penalty, because every single person who sings along to Celine Dion should be executed. It will greatly enhance the gene pool.
Is it just me, or has this stupid Terry Shiavo story taken too much of the media’s attention away from the important stories it was covering before all of this came up? Like what Michael Jackson was wearing to court. Tommorrow on CNN? 32 midgets hop out of a Volkswagon. Grab your cotton candy.
Hey Duke. Hahahahahahahahahahaha.
Kevin Pittsnogle was the only member of the West Virginia team that was actually from West Virginia. As I told a friend of mine, “I suspect that, after graduation, he’ll be the only member of the team that remains in West Virginia.” By the way, if you think that Virginia and West Virginia are the same state, I will punch you in the face. You’ve been warned.
That evil bastard Frank Perdue is finally dead. Very few people have been as dedicated to suppressing workers rights as Perdue, who even contacted a New York crime boss to try to suppress a workers union. I hear the chicken’s tough in hell, Frank.
I’m Bobby Badtimes. Beware My Wrath!