I'm pretty sure I've told this story before but I used to work for a karaoke company back in the day. I can sing a bit, nothing special but I can do a tune or two. Anyway, used to have these competitions all over the shop, when you get down to the business end you get two songs to wow the wanker judges. Most people took it proper seriously, some cunts even went for a change of clothes between tracks. Fuck knows why, there was no where to change in a pub other than the bog.

Anyway, I used to do one song to make sure I'd get a second crack, make me a contender. Then ruin the whole thing by doing a Prodigy track, Breathe was my favourite. After that no one gave a flying fuck about Linda who had just finished a stint on a cruise ship and was singing through a cold, or Dave and Barry who did Needles and fucking Pins (UH) every fucking week in every fucking pub they ever went to. All they could remember was this nutter screaming at them like Matthew from Game on. Good times.

Rest in peace. A very important time and contribution to my musical education.