Ah, the art of humiliation. What could be more entertaining than an evening of fun at the expense of others? Behold, the karaoke dinner party! You can tell a lot about a man by the way he breaks down in front of a room full of strangers.

Hosting the perfect karaoke party is no small feat. When I was ten, my Dad once killed a man in front of my brothers and I for tripping over the amp cord at the peak of The Bangles' "Eternal Flame". We learned that bumbling, drunken idiocy should be kept strictly to the spotlight.

The key is to lure unsuspecting victims with the promise of joy and laughter in exchange for the modest price of their dignity. Once sufficiently lubricated to the point of drunken stupor and incoherent babbling, a man's deepest vulnerabilities can be exposed for ridicule under the uncanny spotlight of sacred emotional territory made accessible by catchy pop sensibility.

To set the mood, offer unlimited consumption of your favourite inhibition-reducing substance. I prefer Zima. It has recently come to my knowledge that this is miraculous gift to the senses is not to everyone's preference. To be fair, as I always am, I present the following alternative recipes for your enjoyment:

Jim Jarlewski's "Booze With 'Tude"

• 1oz spiced rum (Jim recommends the Captain).


• 6oz sports drink (the electrolytes counteract any possible negative side effects of the booze)

Cancer Cowboy's Chugatussin' Cocktail

• Ample quantities of Cherry flavoured cough syrup


• The will to continue

Remember: It is not enough that a man be shamed. He must be destroyed in all but physical form, stripped down to the naked tatters of his shattered pride. He must profess his unworthiness in tormented squeals of mid-tempo adult contemporary. The microphone is his instrument of acoustical Seppuku, accompanied only by the utter desecration of his entire ancestral heritage. Verbal bleach must rain down upon his future seed in off-key melodies! His disgrace must be absolute. And video-taped.

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