A few things I have found out this weekend:
Cats don't like the smell of shaving cream, along with citrus and minty toothpaste.
The karaoke version of "Fly Me to the Moon" at Chopsticks on Burnside is not "uptempo" as it claims in the songlist (also the song number is ASIAN-10B). It is, in fact, very slow and will require the singer to "narrate" the lyrics during the bridge.
Consecutive days working at CD/Game Exchange, plus several cans of PBR on one night, and a few pitchers of Henry's Private Reserve the next, waiting a half hour in the cold for MAX at 12:30 am, and the need to speak loudly at Chopsticks in order to be heard, will lead to the first signs of a sore throat and an early bedtime tonight.
One thing I learned over the weekend: evenings spent in karaoke bars run much more smoothly when I don't sing.
Aw, I would have loved to have seen your rendition of November Rain.
Unfortunately, Chopsticks did not appear to have my standard: Paul Revere and the Raider's Indian Reservation.
You would not have loved to see the blood pouring out of your ears. The last time I time I performed karaoke, several dozen people were rushed to the hospital after suffering brain attacks. Fortunately, there's one down the street from the Alibi.