Another year, another end-of-the-year party . . . except that on top of cornhole, this year there was karoake . . . yikes . . . and I got bullied into singing a song with very few lyrics: "Don't Come Around Here No More" . . . which is more awkward to sing than a song with a lot of lyrics-- because there's not much to do during the music (unless you can dance, which . . . nope).
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