Trust me when I say: You don't want to hear me sing.
All the tonal complexity of cats mating; a vertiable crime against the auditory senses. Not so much noise, as a newer, more complete form of cacophony, so offensive to both the ears and the mind that even describing it; even attempting to describe it would be an atrocity of the highest order.
My singing voice is comparable to a Justin Bieber who's been kicked in the throat fifteen times. You'd get a better listening experience by filling a trashcan with shrapnel, glass shards, and old Furbies and projecting it forcefully down a stairwell.
You really, really don't want me singing. Ever. Under any circumstances.
Trust me when I say: *You don't want to hear me sing*.
All the tonal complexity of cats mating; a vertiable crime against the auditory senses. Not so much *noise*, as a newer, more complete form of cacophony, so offensive to both the ears and the mind that even describing it; even *attempting* to describe it would be an atrocity of the highest order.
My singing voice is comparable to a Justin Bieber who's been kicked in the throat fifteen times. You'd get a better listening experience by filling a trashcan with shrapnel, glass shards, and old Furbies and projecting it forcefully down a stairwell.
You really, *really* don't want me singing. Ever. Under any circumstances.
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