
If you know the Dogbomb, you know two things:
1) I can't carry a tune in a bucket.
2) I drink a beer every now and then.
This particular Tuesday found me in a wondering mood.
So I wondered over to Woody's Wharf, where the bar tender puts
up with my antics and the regulars do their best to ignore me.
Tuesday is karaoke night. It was also the night that the All Girls Choir
from Victorville decided to invade the bar after a day at the beach.
These ladies were rockin'.
Being from Victorville, they were worldly types, but the presence of a
large dog drinking Carta Blancas at the bar threw them into a tizzy.
We all tizzied together for a bit, and then 8:00 rolled around and karaoke
began.
I try to run fast and far at the very mention of karaoke, but these ladies
were buying me drinks and lovin' my whole dog thang, so I stayed to watch
them tear up Madonna and Pink. And tear it up they did.
I've never been a fan of the train wreck that is karaoke, but these ladies
could sing, dance and work a crowd. I was transfixed.
And fairly ship wrecked by 10:00.
Then things took a left turn.
The call went up from the crowd: "We want the dog!"
I chugged my beer and got ready to beat a hasty retreat, but the Girls were
having none of that. I was pushed towards the stage on a wave of
feminine insistance, the spotlight ahead like an unblinking eye.
The stage is not my comfort zone.
The microphone found its way into my trembling paw and the DJ asked
me what I wanted to sing. I asked if I could just recite some poetry,
but bartender Dave came to my "rescue" and volunteered that I wanted
to warble 'Margaritaville.'
Oh shit, I was about to butcher Jimmy.
The opening chords rang out and my mouth felt as dry as Texas sand.
I croaked out the first line and imagined the pain that the
audience must be feeling. When I managed to squint past the house
lights, I saw that they were smiling and singing along.
Huh?
By the time the chorus hit, I was in full voice and really nailing the high
notes, dancing around and swinging my tail like Steven Tyler. I even
cleverly added "some people claim that there's a dog-geey to blame"
in the refrain. A bigger dork you will never see.
Song over, crowd on its feet, shouting "Encore, encore!"
Oh my dog, I'm a rock star.
Or at least, an easy listening star.
The DJ yelled into my furry ear, "What do ya' want to do next?"
I shrugged and told him to pick. I could kill with any song. I just knew it.
'Last Train to Clarksville' flitted across the screen.
Hell, if the Monkees could do it, a dog could make it his own.
I hit it out of the park, doing my best Davy Jones and substituting
"Victorville" for "Clarksville."
So clever, and so on key.
After mad applause, I jumped off the stage and ran over to my safe perch
at the bar. The ladies went crazy and crowded over to congratulate me
and buy me another beer or two.
Feeling that I had found a new career as a professional karaoke singer,
I clinked glasses with Dave the bartender as another Girl launched into
some Creedence.
"How'd I do?" I asked Dave.
He cocked his head, like a pup trying to solve a riddle.
"Well, Dog, it was fun to watch," he said.
And then he added, "But it was painful to listen to."
I turned and looked at the Girl beside me. Surely Dave had no
ear for great musical talent.
"What did you think?" I asked the big blonde named Irma.
She was a straight shooter. "You're cute, but you suck."
Ears back, head down, I sat and drained my beer.
I knew they were right. Cats in heat sound better than me.
Then Irma gave me a giant hug.
"Don't worry, Dog. You made our night," she offered.
I felt a little better and as I watched the All Girls Choir troop out to
their bus, and I realized that a fursuit is like a "get out of jail free" card.
You can dance like a spazz, trip over your feetpaws, sing in the wrong
key, block the entrance to the bathroom and still look cute.
And people ask me why I fursuit...
When the All Girls Choir from Lima, Ohio visits next month I'll
do a little Tom Jones for 'em.
1) I can't carry a tune in a bucket.
2) I drink a beer every now and then.
This particular Tuesday found me in a wondering mood.
So I wondered over to Woody's Wharf, where the bar tender puts
up with my antics and the regulars do their best to ignore me.
Tuesday is karaoke night. It was also the night that the All Girls Choir
from Victorville decided to invade the bar after a day at the beach.
These ladies were rockin'.
Being from Victorville, they were worldly types, but the presence of a
large dog drinking Carta Blancas at the bar threw them into a tizzy.
We all tizzied together for a bit, and then 8:00 rolled around and karaoke
began.
I try to run fast and far at the very mention of karaoke, but these ladies
were buying me drinks and lovin' my whole dog thang, so I stayed to watch
them tear up Madonna and Pink. And tear it up they did.
I've never been a fan of the train wreck that is karaoke, but these ladies
could sing, dance and work a crowd. I was transfixed.
And fairly ship wrecked by 10:00.
Then things took a left turn.
The call went up from the crowd: "We want the dog!"
I chugged my beer and got ready to beat a hasty retreat, but the Girls were
having none of that. I was pushed towards the stage on a wave of
feminine insistance, the spotlight ahead like an unblinking eye.
The stage is not my comfort zone.
The microphone found its way into my trembling paw and the DJ asked
me what I wanted to sing. I asked if I could just recite some poetry,
but bartender Dave came to my "rescue" and volunteered that I wanted
to warble 'Margaritaville.'
Oh shit, I was about to butcher Jimmy.
The opening chords rang out and my mouth felt as dry as Texas sand.
I croaked out the first line and imagined the pain that the
audience must be feeling. When I managed to squint past the house
lights, I saw that they were smiling and singing along.
Huh?
By the time the chorus hit, I was in full voice and really nailing the high
notes, dancing around and swinging my tail like Steven Tyler. I even
cleverly added "some people claim that there's a dog-geey to blame"
in the refrain. A bigger dork you will never see.
Song over, crowd on its feet, shouting "Encore, encore!"
Oh my dog, I'm a rock star.
Or at least, an easy listening star.
The DJ yelled into my furry ear, "What do ya' want to do next?"
I shrugged and told him to pick. I could kill with any song. I just knew it.
'Last Train to Clarksville' flitted across the screen.
Hell, if the Monkees could do it, a dog could make it his own.
I hit it out of the park, doing my best Davy Jones and substituting
"Victorville" for "Clarksville."
So clever, and so on key.
After mad applause, I jumped off the stage and ran over to my safe perch
at the bar. The ladies went crazy and crowded over to congratulate me
and buy me another beer or two.
Feeling that I had found a new career as a professional karaoke singer,
I clinked glasses with Dave the bartender as another Girl launched into
some Creedence.
"How'd I do?" I asked Dave.
He cocked his head, like a pup trying to solve a riddle.
"Well, Dog, it was fun to watch," he said.
And then he added, "But it was painful to listen to."
I turned and looked at the Girl beside me. Surely Dave had no
ear for great musical talent.
"What did you think?" I asked the big blonde named Irma.
She was a straight shooter. "You're cute, but you suck."
Ears back, head down, I sat and drained my beer.
I knew they were right. Cats in heat sound better than me.
Then Irma gave me a giant hug.
"Don't worry, Dog. You made our night," she offered.
I felt a little better and as I watched the All Girls Choir troop out to
their bus, and I realized that a fursuit is like a "get out of jail free" card.
You can dance like a spazz, trip over your feetpaws, sing in the wrong
key, block the entrance to the bathroom and still look cute.
And people ask me why I fursuit...
When the All Girls Choir from Lima, Ohio visits next month I'll
do a little Tom Jones for 'em.
Category Photography / Fursuit
Species Dog (Other)
Size 1068 x 1280px
File Size 174 kB
Cool! Interestingly enough, one of my memories of the high desert was having a snowball fight with my brother-in-law. I went there in the winter (if I recall correctly 1988 or 1989) and it snowed about an inch or so. We all though it was fun and went out and played in it. Reminded us of home. All of us are from Illinois.
*hugs ya tight*
Mr. Dogbomb, no worries. I would have rubbed your flat ears... for one, it's extremely hard to sing in fursuit. Your breath is already taking a toll dealing with heat. Dancing yes, singing now, regardless. I wouldn't feel bad, and hope you didn't feel too bad... *wants to very badly go out in fursuit with you sometime*
The point is that you made people smile and had a good night, right?
And I don't see any spelling or many other mistakes in your words. *wink*
IT'S NOT UNUSUALLLL TO BE LOVED BY A DOG. . .
(One time my uncle went into a line describing a traffic light) It's not UNUSUAL to be hung like that. . .
= )
Mr. Dogbomb, no worries. I would have rubbed your flat ears... for one, it's extremely hard to sing in fursuit. Your breath is already taking a toll dealing with heat. Dancing yes, singing now, regardless. I wouldn't feel bad, and hope you didn't feel too bad... *wants to very badly go out in fursuit with you sometime*
The point is that you made people smile and had a good night, right?
And I don't see any spelling or many other mistakes in your words. *wink*
IT'S NOT UNUSUALLLL TO BE LOVED BY A DOG. . .
(One time my uncle went into a line describing a traffic light) It's not UNUSUAL to be hung like that. . .
= )
*waggwaggwaggwagg* OMD!!! This sounds like so much fun! I wonder if we can find some karaoke at FF?? I'd be up for it! See if they have some Pink Foyd. We'll put Roger Waters to shame! *tailwiggles* I really can't wait to interact with random public humans insuit haha. Thanks for the laugh and fantastic story to go along with your picture submission! *hugs* *tail angels behind the bar*
Haha, you never really know what you really sound like until someone tells you or you hear a recording, eh? XP But hey, you had a blast, and that, it seems, is what really matters. That and getting booze, too, probably. XP
And another score for fursuiters! The Get out of Jail Free card that can be used as often as you want! XDDD
And another score for fursuiters! The Get out of Jail Free card that can be used as often as you want! XDDD
Heh, the local convention I attended this year here in Columbus, Morphicon, actually had a Fursuit Karaoke hour. If they have it next year, now that I have a fursuit, I'll be sure to sign up, and make sure someone has video, so you can see you aren't the worst singing canine in the world. :3
If I could, DB, I'd be right up there with ya, singing back up, and not any better. I tried singing "Never Gonna Give You Up" at an Applebee's once to "Rick'roll" my friends if you know what that is (silly internet Fad come and gone), and they thought it was hilarious...
I'd never give you up or let you down, or run around and desert you. Although I may make you cry (with my horrible singing), and eventually have to say good bye, I would never tell a lie to hurt you. (If you can't sing, I'd let you know, and hopefully you'd do the same for me. No sense in us looking like fools if we know we can't carry a tune) :3
If I could, DB, I'd be right up there with ya, singing back up, and not any better. I tried singing "Never Gonna Give You Up" at an Applebee's once to "Rick'roll" my friends if you know what that is (silly internet Fad come and gone), and they thought it was hilarious...
I'd never give you up or let you down, or run around and desert you. Although I may make you cry (with my horrible singing), and eventually have to say good bye, I would never tell a lie to hurt you. (If you can't sing, I'd let you know, and hopefully you'd do the same for me. No sense in us looking like fools if we know we can't carry a tune) :3
What a cute tail... I mean tale! <3 Karaoke is great story fodder. :) I'm secretly planning on bringing my fursuit to the choir I used to sing in, and howl out some tunes.
I agree 100% on the "get out of jail free" part, too; it's one of the things that makes fursuiting so awesome! ^^
I agree 100% on the "get out of jail free" part, too; it's one of the things that makes fursuiting so awesome! ^^
Great story, must of been very fun. I used to sing but since 7th grade my voice took dive after having my tonsils out. But I know you had fun and so did everyone. That all that counts. I love hearing about the things you do. You are some one I look up too and the reason I will fursuit in public when ever I can.
The only way to listen to that type of music is to be so numb from being piss ass drunk it seems like a blur or being so piss ass drunk you don't care if you are making a fool out of yourself.
Believe me,
I've been in enough places with this to know unless you get lucky..
Be afraid..
Be very afraid.
However,
You seem to be a local celebrity around there
I used to be like that too in my neck of the woods here where I live
Believe me,
I've been in enough places with this to know unless you get lucky..
Be afraid..
Be very afraid.
However,
You seem to be a local celebrity around there
I used to be like that too in my neck of the woods here where I live
You don't have to wear your suit. You could wear what you wear running the marathon: your paw gloves, your ears, and maybe a tail. I'm also afraid you wouldn't be able to float in the suit, too. I would wear my tail on the course if it were allowed and if it won't become discolored in the mud.
As a matter of fact, you could wear your suit when being interviewed with Jill Wagner.
But, you know what, Dogbomb? I have a feeling that I should be the one who competes on "Wipeout" and brings that long-sought-after honor and good cheer the fandom needs. If there will be pain, that's just part of the sacrifice needed to complete the task. I plan on competing next summer in 2011. Until then, I will be in training. You don't need to be an athlete to compete on "Wipeout," but you need to be like one to win.
So, how is it that I'm "waaaay" ahead of you?
As a matter of fact, you could wear your suit when being interviewed with Jill Wagner.
But, you know what, Dogbomb? I have a feeling that I should be the one who competes on "Wipeout" and brings that long-sought-after honor and good cheer the fandom needs. If there will be pain, that's just part of the sacrifice needed to complete the task. I plan on competing next summer in 2011. Until then, I will be in training. You don't need to be an athlete to compete on "Wipeout," but you need to be like one to win.
So, how is it that I'm "waaaay" ahead of you?
Oh if I had the money to suit the things I would probably experience... Nova Scotia seems like a hotbed of furries. Personally I know atleast 20 in the immediate area, and know of atleast 20 more. I've had entire conversations ont he bus with groups of people about being a furry and what it is just because one person heard me mention something. You still get wierd looks from older people but people are accepting of it here mostly. I'd like to know what it's like to fursuit but unfortunately most suits cost more than my car. Guess I'll just have to keep reading your little stories on here for now while I wait for the lottery. ^..~
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