Monday, August 23, 2010

Sparklecados: Day 181

Just a brief update today. Sparklecado #4: A New Hope has begun.



Saturday, August 21, 2010

Sparklecados: Day 179

There have been some exciting developments on the Sparklecado front. Our stalwart, Sparklecado #1 had developed a small stem and the beginnings of some tiny leaves, so it was time to kick it out of the nest and move it into a home of its own. Today, just shy of six months after our experiment began, it was transferred from the Twilight cup to its permanent home in a terra cotta pot. It still hasn't sparkled, but it still may some day. Sparklecado #3, started just 34 days ago has shown significant growth. I expect to transfer it to soil far sooner than Sparklecado #1. There is yet another pit drying on my counter as I type this, and in a couple days, it will become Sparklecado #4: A New Hope.

Sparklecado #1, quite ready to face the world on its own without the help of the insipid Cullens.

Sparklecado #3 is thus far easily outpacing its predecessors.

Sparklecado #1 is barely visible in its new home for the moment, but it will soon grown into a mighty tree. Sparklecado #3, with something to prove, sits in the shadow of its gas-giant of an older brother.

Is This Thing On?


So, its been dead around here, but I promise Skynet is still alive and well. The problem is, we're all lazy. Keep checking back for new articles on topics varying from my outrage over not being able to buy horse meat to how much TV's in public suck.

Thursday, August 5, 2010

These Are the People in Your Karaoke Bar

I must admit, I enjoy the occasional visit to a karaoke establishment. I used to attend on a weekly basis with friends. While it is a lot of fun to sing in front of an audience, the drama that surrounds karaoke "regulars" has gotten to be too much for me. So now, without further ado, I present a breakdown of your typical karaoke fans.

The Loud Drunk Asshole. These seem to be a staple in every karaoke bar. They are usually in their 30s, overweight, and playing pool or darts. They will pick a song like "Hotel California" or "Knocking on Heaven's Door" and sing it far too loudly and off key, occasionally yelling unintelligible nonsense into the mic. Whenever anyone else sings, they will cheer loudly and tell them, "You rock, man!"

The Dorky Hipster. These are usually decidedly geeky guys who sing karaoke to be ironic. They will stand onstage with one hand in their pocket, looking completely disinterested, and sing something ridiculous, like Weird Al's "Yoda" or a Lady Gaga tune. They are usually drinking lager.

The Cutesy Girl. The cutesy girl looks too young to even be in a bar. She will be wearing a tight shirt and she will bounce while she sings a Shania Twain song. Sometimes she is an awesome singer. Sometimes she sucks. All of the Loud Drunk Assholes will cheer either way.

The Broken-Hearted Fat Chick. This girl will always sing a sad, slow love song. She is usually accompanied by two or three other corpulent girls who will cry during her rendition of "Wind Beneath My Wings."

The Professional Jackass. These are usually men, around fifty years old, who have formal voice training. There are the occasional, rare female Professional Jackasses. He will walk into the bar about once every two months and select the same song every time. He will order only water with lemon. He will sing his selection with a cocky look on his face, sniff disdainfully, then leave before having to speak to any of the riffraff.

The SRS BSNS Regular. For this person, karaoke is not a pastime, it is a way of life. They will spend time and money practicing all week for their Saturday "performance". They are most likely the sad remnants of a little girl who always wanted to be a rock star when she grew up. They NEVER miss karaoke. They hate the Cutesy Girl. They wish all the Drunks and Hipsters would go away, because they just don't take this seriously enough. If anyone sings well, they will viciously attack them behind their back, because there CAN BE ONLY ONE. They may stomp off home if their rendition of "Me and Bobby McGee" doesn't get a standing ovation. If anyone sings a song that they enjoy singing, they hate them for "stealing their song." Every karaoke bar will end up developing at least two of these individuals by the third month of being open.

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