I have a Celtic Thunder threshold of about 67% of one song.
Giggles set in at about 10%, the realization that there is “nothing funny about this” hits at 43%, and the nauseating image of The Pogues and Dropkick Murphys as interpreted by labotomized castrati Osmonds hits at the halfway mark.
The horrible feeling that the whole mess sounds as though it had been arranged by Andrew Lloyd Webber on Nyquil comes at 59%, and the remaining 8% is spent wondering what the audience would think about this if the water hadn’t been just LOADED with thorazine. I feel my soul start to slip away at 65% and use the last remaining ounces of free will to feebly grasp the remote and switch to any other channel.
Tonight I switched to a knitting show that seemed positively edgy and dangerous. I tremble to think what would occur if I ever failed to change the channel…and listened to 70% of one song.