Pants Dispenser

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Saturday, April 09, 2005

My Not-Yet-Written Autobiography

I have tentatively decided to call it, Conquering Your Fears Through Battle Therewith: One of These Days I'm Taking Singing Lessons.

I proposed this to my sister and she suggested that I was crazy. I can't, at this point carry a tune past the point where people go, "Man he has no singing ability but at least he knows the words!" Which when you think about it goes pretty far when everyone is drunk or you're doing karaoke, or both.

But I take to heart what someone said to me in October: maybe I am convinced I cannot sing only because my father and my family have repeatedly told me this is the case. This can be learned, right? So watch out, world, I'm coming...I'm coming to getcha...beewow bewowow....Foxy Lady!

4 Comments:

At 4:29 AM, Blogger Rev. Lick said...

Buns,

Some of us just can't sing no matter what. Pursue it to find out, though. Last time I tried karaoke, I was so bad the DJ turned off my mic. And this was while plastered at a dive bar in Metairie, Louisiana.

 
At 9:53 PM, Blogger Pants Dispenser Operator said...

Thyat's pretty bad. That has never happened to me either because the DJ never tried or you are way worse at this than I am. Also: "One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Beer" is a horrible karaoke choice (I found this out the hard way).

 
At 1:04 AM, Anonymous Other said...

here's an awesome title for your autobiography:
"I didn't listen to my dad and now everyone in the east village hates me because i sang too much karaoke and they threw out all the microphones just to spite me and now all the hipsters can do is mope around singing 'the day the music died.'"

ok so seriously, go call your editor this one's going for the gold.

oh, and then call me back biatch.

 
At 4:25 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

hey pantsdispenser. this blog is hysterical. keep them coming. long live Noamistani! lol

 

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