Making Flippy Floppy

I went out last Monday night to do a little karaoke with a new friend who just moved here from Wisconsin, and you'll never guess what she did? This little TV is like a flashback of margaritas, salsa and Patsy Cline.. aaah
 

(sigh)

I miss the days of yore when we'd heave the heavy wooden door open, trip lightly down those worn-carpet covered stairs and be struck by an overpowering wave of sick-making urinal-cake odor as we staggered across the drink and vomit stained floor to come abreast of the bar and clamour for a pitcher of Kokanee or a few inexpensive cocktails before retiring to the darkness of the side room where we leafed through the books looking for that perfect number to croon in varying degrees of intoxication.