Cowboy Boots: Steve Madden
I'm going to let you all in on a little known fact about me: I love to sing. Okay, so maybe if you have ever met me in person you already know that I sing along to every song on the radio (and I mean every song, no matter what station). But I also really like to sing karaoke. The problem? It scares the poop out of me.
Last night the boyfriend came in to town late after he got off work and was all, "Yo, my bros are singing karaoke tonight, let's go" and I was all, "Okay, homeboy, what does one wear to a karaoke bar in redneck town Ocala?" I might be ad libbing the whole conversation right now, but I decided cowboy boots were the best option regardless. Then once we got there and "Sheryl Crow's 'All I Wanna Do'" written on a little slip of paper was in the DJ's hand, my cowboy boot clad toesies went numb.
I promptly ordered "Smurf Piss" because, for one, it was called "Smurf Piss" and, two, I thought it would make me less nervous. It didn't. Then, they called my name and I walked up on the stage and really scary, psycho-killer clown music started playing. The screen read, "Psycho Circus" starting in 5,4,3.."
The DJ apologized and promptly started playing "Psycho Circus" again, meanwhile I'm trying not to Smurf piss my pants. Finally my girl Sheryl comes on and I start singing... but the microphone is apparently off. Nice goin', deej, didn't even tell me I had to turn on the mic.
Needless to say it was a somewhat traumatic experience, but luckily there were only about three other people in the bar besides my crew anyway. And speaking of my crew, they were not at all microphone shy..
The older, hairier version of the Jonas Brothers.
By the way, this is the song I actually wanted to sing.. woops.
I feel a "Songs-I-Want-To-Karaoke-The-Shit-Out-Of" Playlist coming on.
I could keep a copy of it in my wallet for redneck bar emergencies.