Karaoke That Carries

[Decimus]

If you're looking for a comparison that best suits this awful shite, I'd suggest that it's the nineties equivalent of TikTok. Tone deaf council estate scum hog a platform in order to inflict their cochlea-bursting warblings upon other talentless wankers who have delusions and dreams of Simon Cowell fisting them live on stage at the Royal Albert Hall.

That being said, there's invariably a few stock characters that pop up each and every time a landlord decides to dust off his old VHS player and mothballed microphone.

1-The boomer cunt wearing a suit that last fit him on Black Wednesday, doing an impression of Frank's old dad doing an impression of Mitch Winehouse doing an impression of Frank Sinatra. Usually a cab driver and almost certainly a sex case.

2- The divorced and perimenopausal tart belting out Whitney Houston/Celine Dion numbers, piggy fucking eyes screwed shut whilst deep throating the mic. Delusional enough to think that every trite line in the song is a perfect metaphor for her own failed love story with a wife-beating plumber who preferred knocking her about to shooting one up her rancid clout.

3: A not half bad but majorly overdressed slag in her twenties, accompanied by the inevitable fat friend who ad-libs Catherine Tate catchphrases throughout a Taylor Swift track because "she's the funny one".

I can currently hear all of the disgusting animals above, plus more, from the sanctity of my garden 400 metres away from the local boozer. Where's a Glaswegian helicopter pilot when you need him?

[entitled little cunt]

10 minutes ago, Decimus said:

If you're looking for a comparison that best suits this awful shite, I'd suggest that it's the nineties equivalent of TikTok. Tone deaf council estate scum hog a platform in order to inflict their cochlea-bursting warblings upon other talentless wankers who have delusions and dreams of Simon Cowell fisting them live on stage at the Royal Albert Hall.

That being said, there's invariably a few stock characters that pop up each and every time a landlord decides to dust off his old VHS player and mothballed microphone.

1-The boomer cunt wearing a suit that last fit him on Black Wednesday, doing an impression of Frank's old dad doing an impression of Mitch Winehouse doing an impression of Frank Sinatra. Usually a cab driver and almost certainly a sex case.

2- The divorced and perimenopausal tart belting out Whitney Houston/Celine Dion numbers, piggy fucking eyes screwed shut whilst deep throating the mic. Delusional enough to think that every trite line in the song is a perfect metaphor for her own failed love story with a wife-beating plumber who preferred knocking her about to shooting one up her rancid clout.

3: A not half bad but majorly overdressed slag in her twenties, accompanied by the inevitable fat friend who ad-libs Catherine Tate catchphrases throughout a Taylor Swift track because "she's the funny one".

I can currently hear all of the disgusting animals above, plus more, from the sanctity of my garden 400 metres away from the local boozer. Where's a Glaswegian helicopter pilot when you need him?

Are you sure you filled the tank up ?.

Aiee, Aiee, dont worry.