A little while back, some of us got together and went to sing karaoke. My friend GirlDog invited us and so she had pick of the venue. This is the first time in Seattle that I’ve gone singing karaoke and so I didn’t really know any places to do it. (That’s not completely true but the first time didn’t really count because I didn’t set out to go sing. I just went to a seedy little dive that happened to have karaoke going on. Same difference? Meh. I’d like to think there’s distinction in the choice.) 

The place we went was called The Royal Unicorn. It’s a little place in Shoreline that couples as a Chinese restaurant/lounge. I’m sure that at one time, this combination would have sent me reeling (as did the aforementioned tuna and rice combination from my last post) but I think I’ve grown numb to the monumental clashes the Asian people can produce over the years. My mother is especially adept at this sort of thing. 

The Unicorn itself was a small place and it was clear that most of the people there were regulars. It didn’t have that oppressive miasma that some places acquire though. This miasma that I refer to is the one where you may drop dead for even daring to intrude on territory that clearly isn’t where you belong. This is something that I’ve seen in Seattle more that anywhere else in my life– this being a sort of cliquey public isolation. 

We all had some $3.50 well drinks which is a not too bad deal. I did a couple songs alone and a couple with others. It was fun but I think I would choose a different venue next time. The selection of songs were somewhat limited. I think already after just one night, I exhausted the songs that I would want to do. The timing was off on some of the songs too. I hear that Seattle’s Best Karaoke or SBK is pretty good. Not just because you’re spared the embarassment of belting out drunken tunes to complete strangers but on it’s own merits as well.

-J

I’m not talking about bread and butter, Flaming Hot Cheetos with garlic dip, or mayonnaise and rice (The latter is the concoction of my roommate, KittyLady. I personally think it’s deplorable and take no responsibility should you choose to mimic her.) The Ultimate Combo is… *drumroll* Zombies and Beer! I know that you think this is made up but I insist that it exists.

It strikes me as I write this that if someone didn’t believe me I might pass this off as some religion clinging to it unwaveringly through any adversity I encounter. I believe it but you may vehemently deny it. Those that have experienced it can join the fold as it were.

Anyhow, what I’m actually refering to is a special production that Seattle Children’s Theater put on of Night of the Living Dead. For the first experimental time ever, they did a 21+ night with beer for donations. I imagine the person who schemed this up not so much what one would imagine as a marketing director in a suit or some other thing like that, but rather a mad scientist. They would wring their fingers in anticipation as the insanity coalesces into some tangible form of what could only be described in one encapsulating word: glorious.

In theory, that is exactly was it was. Is it wrong to get tingles from thinking of flesh-eating undead denizens while you sip on an adult beverage? Possibly decadent? The play was great and plenty funny. My libations, I’m sure played some part in my perspective of the play though. The beer was an IPA which, I’m not really keen on but there was no other option. I look forward to the opportunity to do something along similar vein. There is rumbling rumor on the horizon of doing the Wizard of Oz on a 21+ night.

I also agreed to go to plays and musicals more often(read: more than never) with KittyLady who gets the fancy for that sort of thing every now and then. Perhaps, I’m trying to remedy my being a bad gay by infusing my life with theater. It is requisite after all.

-J

Halloween is my favorite holiday. And getting in the spirit of this sanctimonius holiday, this weekend we all went to the corn maze up in Everett. I had never been before mostly because in Florida there is a distinct lack of corn mazery. Outwardly, the idea of a corn maze and the reality do not deviate from each other very much.  

Perhaps, if my first experience was as a child, there may have been a mysterious quality to the experience with a seemingly real possibility of never emerging from that hellish grain labyrinth. I can envision my overactive imagination as a child working against me in that way. Instead of a minotaur I would instead be accosted by the Children of the Corn. 

However, since growing up I’ve learned to use my imagination in a more pragmatic way. I’ve entertained the idea of being lost in a vast labyrinth and finding my way back out keeping my wits about me. This scenario has played out often enough that I was even eager to be in a maze so that I could test my mettle. I imagined it would be more like a maze from the movie The Labyrinth – of course, minus the goblins and David Bowie. Clearly, I would also have nothing to do with saving a goddam ugly baby either.

Regardless, my first maze experience was not the torturous and terrifying situation that it could have been but I still felt a sense of mild accomplishment upon completion of my epic quest. Clearly, I have what it takes to survive in such a scenario. 

Aside from the maze there was a pumpkin cannon. Reading about this on the website thrilled the hell out of me. Seeing it left me a little wanting. I had hoped they would be launching full sized pumpkins. Rather they were softball-sized with some slightly larger than that. The sound I expected would have been a deep resounding boom as befits a squash siege weapon. It was more like the sound of a spitball leaving a straw but louder. 

Another thing that tainted the experience of the pumpkin cannon was the calls of the  crowd. I can appreciate their excitement but listening to their “Whoo-hoo!”s transported me into a living room sausage fest complete with beer, football, and talk during the commercials about hunting. It was a scene I felt dirty just imagining and I’m shuddering now as I read what I just wrote.

-J

Tags: corn maze