The bar downstairs has apparently started doing Monday night kareoke.
Currently, someone is doing an awful rendition of Hall and Oates’ “Maneater”…and that I won’t stand for (or rather, I can’t go for that, can’t for that). I’m tempted to go down there, rip the mike out of their hands, and do that bitch justice. Then I will promptly smash the machine so I can get some sleep.
Whooooah-Oh here I come.
