I can’t tell you the precise length of time a human being can endure karaoke, but I can tell you this: it is less than two hours. Way less. I can also tell you that the time limit is even shorter for seventh graders who aren’t on stage pretending to be Miley Cyrus. I can also tell you that if you thought the lyrics to The Thong Song were egregious and disgusting when you were singing along to it alone in your car several years ago because it was catchy, they are far worse when printed out and displayed on a massive movie screen. I can tell you that no adult should ever be asked by a twelve-year-old what, exactly, are dumps like a truck, anyway? I can also tell you that the next time someone suggests a karaoke night, I will not respond, hey, great idea, that sounds like fun.