Our last night out on the town in Pretoria we are led by Max, who forever tainted my respect for Lonely Planet guides, to the absolute worst, most abysmal bastardization of karaoke that I've ever had the misfortune of witnessing. We thought it was merely a nice restaurant with live local music, but it turned out that we were inflicted with immeasurable pain at the lungs of a sadistic husband/wife team as they attempted to belt out, damn, who knows: Laurence Welk? Liberace? I cannot imagine what inspired them to get on stage. But it's one thing to just listen to bad singing. To make matters worse, they event tried to perform a bit. See those Dixie-time hats off to the left? That's right: with those and a couple canes they tried their best rag-time imitations, and between songs they attempt what I'm guessing is supposed to be humor. At the moment this picture was taken, she's doing a little side-step dance while the guy just wanders aimlessly about the stage looking (and sounding) as if he was whac...
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