Product Review: Burgundy Cher Wig
If you want a really awful experience imprinted on your psyche forever, let your Cher fan wife get this look-alike wig. I shudder when I hear the words “Burgundy Cher Wig” to this day. (This review first appeared on Amazon.)
Guys…Be Warned: This Can Get WAY Out of Hand!
It was bad enough that my wife, whom I thought was sane in most respects, wanted to perform that awful song “Believe” at a karaoke bar. But then she decided to order the CD so she could get the tone and pitch and everything right, and she sees this wonderful burgundy Cher wig. Well, she just went nuts and had to have it. As you can guess, it went downhill from there.
We go to karaoke night at Wild Bill Buckhead’s, and after I spend a couple of hours cringing through wanna-bes singing “Achy Breaky” and “Piece Of My Heart” (yes, THAT “Piece of My Heart” by Janis Joplin, and you would think anyone could have sung it better than Joplin but GUESS AGAIN!), my wife signs up to sing “Believe”. Except some other babe has already signed up to sing it! The DJ tells her this and she freaks. She finds the girl and grabs her and shakes her while she’s screaming, “I’M CHER! I’M CHER! YOU CAN’T SING MY SONG YOU WHITE TRASH WENCH! I AM CHER!”
My mind was obviously occupied at the time, but the irony hit me later…imagine someone wearing a burgundy Cher wig calling another girl a “white trash wench”. Yeah. That happened in this universe.
Anyway, I had to pull her off of this poor girl, and of course now it’s a big scene and there’s even a couple of drunken idiots asking me if they can get her autograph. Great. Finally we get out of the bar and she’s still got this stupid wig on and she’s still screaming, “THAT’S MY SONG!” I got her home and said, “OK, NOW you can sing that dumb song!” So she put the CD on the stereo really loud and sang the song. It was brutal sitting through it but at least she finally quieted down.
Guys, just in case you’re thinking about tying the knot, just know that if she’s a Cher fan who wears Cher wigs, that’s a deal-breaker. What a frickin’ night.
(By the way, no, that isn’t my wife in the picture. That girl looks reasonably sane.)