May I "Jam" it up your ______?

Yeah, yeah, yeah. It's been a while. Stop nagging, Mom! I'll call you soon!

Anywho, sorry about taking so long to post. I've been busy doing other things like writing my daily diet blog, and some other things that I have talked about over there.

Today, I have a story for you. Anyone who knows me personally already knows this story, but that's ok. There's something towards the end of this post for them (that means there's a point to me telling it again).

Many, many moons ago (more like 5 or 6 years ago), a friend (I'll call her "Punky" since she's kind of a punk rocker) invited me to a party at her house. She called it a "Let's drink rum and eggnog until it comes out of our noses" party, if memory serves correctly. Also at this party were my best friend, Badass Bitch (I love you, girl!); The Jolly Green Giant (she is very tall, and I do believe that this is one of her official nicknames); and The Diva (not because she was a bitch or anything, she just had the "I'm here" attitude).

 

 

 

Punky, Badass Bitch, Me, Jolly Green Giant, Diva

(With the exception of Badass, I doubt that any of us were ever that skinny or chesty, but it's nice to pretend! And, yes, I did wear mom jeans, even then.)

Anyway, After many drinks, it was suggested that we sing karaoke on the Xbox or something. In my drunken state, I agreed that this sounded like fun. Now, to most people this would be fun... but to sober me, this would have been a fate worse than death. You see, in high school, my singing was described as "a cat in heat being butt-fucked while dying."

Now, why I thought I could do this while, *ahem*, influenced is beyond me. When my turn came up, I picked "Hot Stuff" by Donna Summer. I remember thinking that it was a Rod Stewart song for some reason. So I stood up and sang my heart out.

LAAAAAaaaaaaaaAAAA!

After I finished my spectaculously craptastic drunken solo, Diva turns to me and says "Katie, you need to stop trying to be black!" She says this just as I started to take a drink of my rum and eggnog. I laughed so hard, I shot my drink out of my nose and it landed about 6 feet away on Punky's bedroom carpet.

Poor Punky, she had no idea she would be the master of foreshadowing that night. When she moved a year or so later, she confided in me that she still couldn't get the stain out.

The point of this story is that I thought I would never find someone who sings nearly as badly as I did that day. Today, I have been proven wrong. I listened to Kim Kardashian's "Jam". Holey moley!

I have provided a chart to help you understand just how much it sucks:

I have left a lot of gaps so you can fill in your own, taste is subjective, after all!

In case you don't believe me, or just want to assault your eardrums for fun and profit, you can listen to it HERE! 


Most of all, I want to thank you, Kim Kardashian, for making me feel like I suck a little less!