All you can eat sushi at the Ivy, check.
Karaoke last night at Echo Point, check. Denim and lace, check. Substantial quantities of sake, check. Blistered vocal chords, check. Stomach muscles aching from laughing, check. Slaughtered songs (unmerciful): 30 hits in 3 hours.
We hit the mikes with a passion and enthusiasm that only the terribly worst singers in the world would do.
When I left I said to the staff, "very bad singers". They cracked up as they had been watching our substantial efforts on the screen with delight.
Oh, the humiliation! The fun!
Jane, Mayhem and I: butchers
You may call m a butcher, but i think of myself more as a celebrity chef-with-a-mic.
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