How To Properly Make An Ass Of Yourself

Law Revue, the annual law school talent show, was the other night. I meant to perform last year with a friend, but instead got too drunk and it became too late. This year, however, it was fucking on. We talked; we planned; we practiced; we performed; we brought the house down.

Most people performed in a completely serious way. Aside from the host, there were several very good musical acts and a belly dancer. Yes, a belly dancer; a belly dancer that I hereby pledge my never ending support to whatever she wants my support for. World peace could be achieved in a week and a half if there were more belly dancers out there.

We figured everyone else would be doing pseudo-serious songs where they actually showcase their talent. That left us with only one option: do the complete opposite of that and try to make people laugh and just have a good fucking time. Mission accomplished.

The venue Law Revue was held is a pretty historic venue both here in town and nationally, to a certain extent. Many big acts have played in that club on their rise to fame and/or after getting there. Before the show I was excited just to play on the stage. That passed quickly. Before I knew it I was backstage and had approximately seven seconds before the debacle got started. Presumably I should have been thinking about all the actual talent that had played on the stage I was about to get up on and focusing on doing our best.

Except the only thing I could focus on was that we were about to open with a song about anal sex.

Yes, you read the previous sentence correctly. We decided to do three songs; all three were carefully calculated to not only rock everyone’s face off, but to culminate in the biggest rocking of all time. Of course we had to be completely prepared for this; no mistakes allowed. I was playing guitar and singing and my buddy was singing backing vocals.

We had to open with an attention grabber. We chose Stephen Lynch’s “Classic Rock Song.” Watch a video of Stephen Lynch performing the song here; make sure you listen to the entire song. Then imagine someone performing that entire song in a club full of law students. Pure awesomeness.

From there, there was nowhere to go but up. So that’s where we went. After shocking a few people with the Stephen Lynch song, it was time to lull them into a false sense of security before the finale. What better way to make everyone complacent then with one of the greatest songs written in the history of the world: “Wanted Dead or Alive” by Bon Jovi. In case anyone was wondering, the intro to that song is just a little difficult to play when you’ve been trying to ingest enough liquid courage to get you on stage in the first place.

Everyone loved the Bon Jovi song. Which is good, because that meant I didn’t have to murder any of them. Even better, a group of our friends decided to rush the stage during the song and throw underwear at us. Fucking priceless.

And then it was time for the closer. I was slightly apprehensive about the song but I had made up my mind long before. I was playing the damn song and it was going to be goddamned awesome. Either that, or I was about to be in a room full of pissed off people. With one more sip from my PBR bomber, which I brought on stage with me, I was ready to go regardless of the outcome.

From what I remember, I started off the introduction for the final first my letting all the ladies know that, yes, I’m single. I then apologized in advance. While strumming the first three chords of the song, I asked if everyone liked Ben Folds. The response was favorable. I told everyone that I liked to think of the song as a love song; a song about friendship. Then the kicker: “Originally written by Dr. Dre.”

And then we launched into the Ben Fold’s version of “Bitches Ain’t Shit.”

I almost lost it right at the beginning; I almost started laughing my ass off. But I kept my game face on and we sang about bitches. And how they ain’t shit but hoes and tricks. And how they should lick on these nuts and suck the dick. Then gets the fuck out after they’re done. Then I hops in my ride to make a quick run.

Oddly enough, the response was great. Nobody threw rocks at us; nobody tried to bitch us out afterwards. In fact, people loved us. We were described as, “Really good,” “Awesome,” “Great,” and “God NDC, your cock is so uncomfortably large.”