Crazy

For days, I've had Britney Spears' "Crazy" in my head. (I know! "Stronger" is clearly the superior song.) It took me a while, but once I discovered the source of such mental anguish, I could only laugh.

Mike's boss got him a karaoke machine. And this isn't just some lame thing from Walmart, okay? It is top o' the line and super sweet. Like Rock Band and the like, it scores your performance. There are an assload of songs, which Mike has since added to, because apparently we like to sit at home and belt out Pat Benatar and Frank Sinatra. I'll let you try and guess which one of us likes which one of those performers.

Also, Journey.

I'm competitive. I don't like to lose, and I tend to make excuses for bad... um, ness. Mike's scared to play mini golf with me for fear that my temper will get us thrown out of the mini golf fun land. I can't say that I blame him - I have to watch my mouth constantly when I'm around my nieces, and it's HARD not to swear. Additionally, I had to promise Sarah that I'd tone it down around the docents at the museum because their young, impressionable minds probably can't handle the dark sewer that is my vocabulary.

(I'm trying really hard, Sarah, I swear, but sometimes there really is no other way to describe those bitchface callers than "fucktards.")

But really, my mouth would probably get me thrown off of a mini golf course if there were children around. It doesn't help that he's a really, really good golfer, either. I beat him once at Wii golf. That was awesome. But every. other. time? I lost. And I pouted about it. And swore. The game is messed up, I didn't have a good grip on the controller, my eye spasmed. Which it did.

I try to be a good sport, really I do, but that damn karaoke machine just pisses me off. I sang my HEART OUT on "Part of Your World" from The Little Mermaid (yes, it's on there. And it is glorious), and the jerkass machine gave me a 95 even though I was beyond perfect. And yes, I did get a 95, Mike, not an 82. YES I DID.

But you know how you know a song perfectly? You know exactly how Bon Jovi, Madonna, or say, Ariel sings the song and you know you sang it exactly the same? The stupid made-overseas karaoke machine expects you to hold out the last word of each stanza, and let me tell you, that is not easy. Nor does it abide to the original song. Not holding out a note will cause your score to drop. And that is not fair! Jerks!

Also, because of the fact that it's made overseas, some of the song titles... don't make sense. It took me five minutes to figure out that "That Don't I'm Press" was actually "That Don't Impress Me Much" by Shania Twain.

Whatever. I'm sure that my temper will improve someday.