Someone must have roophied my Yoo-hoo one night last June, because I suddenly found myself in the middle of a karaoke bar.I loathe karaoke.
Compounding the situation was a drunk jarhead-type who kept running up on stage in between other people’s performances, grabbing the mic and singing a capella. I couldn’t determine if his father hadn’t hugged him enough, or maybe way too much.
I thought about this when my friend Femi posted this on my Facebook page: “Need a blog with your insight on Kanye West's supreme stupidity tonight. Just because. You'll find a way to make me laugh about him. What an ass.”
I oblige:
In 2005, during a telethon for victims of Hurricane Katrina, Kanye was paired to present with Mike Myers, and decided to ad-lib with the rant "George Bush doesn't care about black people." Myers was confused. The producers panicked and cut away. Who booked the crazy guy?
Apparently this was a mere throat-clearing before the real festivities began.
Sunday night, Kanye became that drunk karaoke jarhead, hijacking the broadcast and ruining what should have been one of the best nights of Taylor Swift’s life.
Kanye West is that guy you’re hanging with that likes to start in with bouncers. And as my friend John likes to say, when you fight a bouncer, even if you win, you really lose.
There’s a growing demographic of these serial offenders who just. Can’t. Shut. Their. Mouths. You know ‘em, you love ‘em: Terrelle Owens. Serena Williams. Pacman Jones. The guy who yelled during Obama’s speech. Oregon running back LeGarrette Blount could campaign for mayor.
I say we round them all up and dispose of them British-style, by dumping them in Australia. This is a bud clearly in need of nipping.
