Porn Star Karaoke vs. Predator

People ask me why I still go to Porn Star Karaoke, now that the actual porn star quotient has been dropping.

I was sitting next to mild-mannered fetish model Hollie Stevens last night. She pointed to a group sitting at a table across the room.

“Those people over there aren’t even in porn, are they?” she asked.

“No,” I said.

“They keep looking over here trying to figure out who I am,” she said.

“How do you know they’re not looking at me?” I asked (but it was clear they weren’t looking at me, or if they were, they were wondering why Gram gets all the goddamn luck).

It was a slow night, and I, too, was pondering why I don’t spend Tuesday nights learning to play the bass or engineering my dominance of Mixed Martial Arts.

Then a little person walked by.

Her name was Li’l Diva and she was dressed, I think, in purloined motel towels. She wore sunglasses and a big hat. The towels she used as a bra kept sliding down.

“Are you the white man?” she asked me.

“Yes,” I said. “Though my soul is black.”

“You’re not the guy,” she said, and moved on.

This is why I come to Porn Star Karaoke: the possibility of bipolar midgets.

Hailey Young was there. She was dressed like a 40’s USO volunteer who dances with lonely soldiers. She told me she was thinking of doing something that, if I were a lonely soldier in 1942, would have made me desert the Army just so I could watch.

“You’re kidding,” I said.

“Nope,” she said. “I think it’s time.”

I sang “Don’t You Want Me” (she did – it was almost embarrassing) with Stevens, who also writes for the publication “Girls And Corpses“.

“If I don’t hae sex in a while, I start humping the air,” she said.

“I am like the wind,” I said.

Previously: Singing “War Pigs” at karaoke will not get you laid
See also: Sardo’s