I can understand this situation perfectly. I love Sinatra, but there are limits to how many really BAD renditions of that particular song by untalented losers even I can take. I once put fifteen .44 cal. rounds into a guy for singin' "My Way" at a place in Atlantic City called The Rhesus Club. He'd been stickin' his big nose into my business and monkeyin' around where he had no right to be. He'd been pickin' fruit off other people's trees. This was the kinda guy who leaves a trail of fresh banana peels everywhere he goes...just so someone else will slip on one and throw his back out or bust his head. He was a few coconuts short of a full deck and he was skatin' on thin ice. When he walked out on stage and did that song it was the last straw. I saw red. I went ape. I opened up my violin case, took out my trusty tommy gun, "Sal", and ventilated the lousy mango-picker.

LH is right. I would LOVE the Phillipines.