I can't sing. I know you're thinking, "well everyone can sing, you just don't sing well". You're wrong. I'm the exception to that rule. Some of the Farklepants family members are blessed with the gift of song. But I married into it and my maiden name is "Voicethatcausesdeath-hyphen-Spears". Karaoke is something that I will never do. My friends enjoy it. I'll watch. But there is not enough alcohol in Ireland coupled with Russia that would cause me to unleash my voice onto mankind. I could drink till I puke, I won't sing. I could be so drunk that I knock over the table when I stand up, spilling my own drink into my own purse [not that I would know anything about that] and I won't sing. Because you know what would happen if I did? There would be lots of screaming and running about as if I had just said, "In sixty seconds the Earth will smash into the sun. Where are your children?". Imagine that kind of chaos. Then there would be that one brave soul who'd take one for the team; and just as he tells the gentleman next to him to let his wife know that he loves her, and takes that flying leap...just then everyone in the place would die. So I don't sing. And the world breathes a collective sigh of relief. If I ever do, for whatever inconceivable reason; just look in the general direction of the mushroom cloud. And you will know.
*photo courtesy of the pilfered panty drawer of Yahoo movies