Yeah, That's Right, We're Still Watching and Judging You!

Last week my ass was knocked out from a persistent form of flu or lupus or some sort of cancer, I’m not sure, but I couldn’t so much as lift my head much less form opinions on American Idol Contestants…well, that’s not necessarily accurate, I could make the opinions, it was the formulating them in coherent sentences that proved difficult…

But, lucky for all of us, I have miraculous healing powers and am back to form witty, biting, satirical comments on my favorite TV show of all time…

Tonight I (Crystal) will be examining the girls with my fine toothed comb, tomorrow night, Gina will drool and probe the boys and then we’ll be together for the losers show on Thursday…

I have to admit, that although it was my idea to split up the nights, I am envious of Gina getting the boys because the gals were in a Perpetual State of Dull tonight and I found myself looking up pictures of a 21 foot giant squid on display in British Museum during certain people’s performances (seriously, look that shit up)…gah, just one big YAWN, folks, one big yawn…

Kathryn McPhee
All is Fair in Love? You know, I like Kathryn…she can sing, she’s unpretentious, she makes it seem effortless, but she couldn’t have chosen a worse song…I feel like her mother made picked that song because she is living through her daughter. Here’s the thing, Kathryn, no one cares if you can sing or if you’re a good performer if you bore us in a stupor…just ask Tony Bennett…or Chris Martin, for that matter.

Kinnik Sky
Gretchen Mutherfucking Wilson? Okay, I’m asking in all seriousness, what in Holy Hell was that all about? I came up with a little calculation about Ms. Wilson when she first became popular.
It looks like this:
Gretchen Wilson=White Trash Central
Who is this girl Kinnik? I am surprised to know anyone outside of a trailer park listens and memorizes songs by Gretchen Wilson. Kinnik, next time you want to “represent” your Southern roots try out for a Beauty Pageant or join a Baptist Church, anything but screaming out that foul pop country music.

***Best Moment of the Night***
Simon: “It was a theme park performance…”
Paula: “I would love to see you on a rollercoaster…would you smile?”
Simon: “Yeah…if you fell off.”

Lisa Tucker
I’m not even going to comment on Lisa Tucker. I have to go pop some Stay Alert just to finish this blog post after that performance…Jesus, we KNOW you can sing, Lisa…just…ugh…


Melissa McGhee
This past New Year’s Gina and I spent the night drinking and partying in southern Missouri at a bar named Hillbilliz (that “z” is no mistake people) and the opening act was a gritty-voiced, lesbianish singer with an acoustic guitar who was “not that bad considering where we are” type of performer…that performer may or may not have been Melissa McGhee…seriously. She’s a bar singer, pure and simple.
And not that I need mention it, but I will, her outfit was straight out of the Gretchen Wilson Collection. I can’t even begin to tell you how upsetting it is to have to mention Gretchen Wilson twice in one night. I’m hanging my head in sadness as I type.

Heather Cox
Whoopee, she sings Hero. Mariah Carey is one of those performers I always wish never existed. And Heather Cox is one of those girls I will completely forget after she is kicked off this Thursday which is kinda like she never existed, at least to me. She is soulless…she has no “it” factor and she reminds me of what I used to think about Jessica Simpson (pre-Newlyweds, mind you, before we saw her hilariously charming stupidity) which was just a Big Boobed Boring Blonde or, BBBB, for short. Thankfully, I don’t think she has the personality to ever have her own reality show…phew.


Brenna Gather
At Citigroup, where I work, we had a “Citi Idol” a few weeks back and it actually wasn’t too terrible. Two girls from my department were in the final six and one of those women sang Donna Summer’s “Last Dance,” a song that I love. This woman, who spends her days talking to annoying loan officers, sang this song WAY BETTER than Brenna could muster tonight. It doesn’t help that Brenna is ruthlessly annoying and most people are probably watching her wanting her to fail. I don’t know anymore, I tend to think I would like Brenna in person; I generally like people with big personalities. But, on TV, she comes off as an extra 10 LBS of obnoxious. I can’t say that I like her, but she wasn’t the worst tonight.


Paris (No Last Name Required)
See Lisa Tucker…Bette Midler…ugh


Ayla Brown
What are two of the most hateful words in the English language? Celine. Dion. Okay, so maybe that’s French, but you understand. This song choice makes me dislike Ayla more, which I didn’t think was possible. I mean, sure its wrong to hate her out of pure jealously, but I’m petty and shallow and frankly, I never made it a rule to like everyone…IT’S IMPOSSIBLE. And her stupid story about the tomboy who didn’t know how to put on makeup? Whatever. Who cares? Jesus, even Gina learned to do her makeup on her own!
The one thing I like about her: How just merely standing next to Ryan Seacrest makes him look like the smallest man to ever walk the Earth.

Kelly Pickler
Something to Talk About, indeed. It really is just a shame she wasn’t on the show last year…she IS Carrie Underwood but with a personality. She doesn’t have a chance of winning this year because we’ve already voted this girl as the American Idol…Carrie is simply a bland version of Kelly. Timing is everything, Kelly, hopefully you’re face puckering cutesiness will be enough to launch a career for you…I think a lot of us would like to see that.

Mandisa
Tonight I owe Mandisa an apology and a thank you. First off, I’ve been spelling her name wrong since I started this blog and she deserves a little more attention to detail than that. I’m lazy, Mandisa, and I’m sorry. Second, my Thank You starts with an explanation. I have a rule of automatically hating any and all music warbled by Faith Hill on principle. She is the epitome of pop country music and I’m sure my feelings on that genre has been fully documented…but, then there is the song “Cry” which, God help me, I’ve liked since it came out. It’s shameful and pains me to admit, but it’s actually sad and pretty and that’s what country music is supposed to be…so, Mandisa, thank you for singing this song tonight and making some of the guilt recede. I think I’ll sleep a little better tonight.


To sum up: Three Things
1. No one was particularly “bad” tonight but it was B to the Oring.
2. I am beginning to fear that this is turning in County Western Idol.
3. I now have an image of Paula Abdul falling out of a roller coaster seat as it spins upside down…the aftermath is a big puddle of hair and giant gold earrings …perfect. Simon, I love you.

And the Rest of Them! And Some Doubles! I Think I Screwed This Up!

Hello, all, Gina here. I went a little crazy last night and wound up doing more of these than I should. How lucky for you!

Catherine McPhee attempts to raise my ire when she makes a speech concerning the ousting of Crystal Stark, but manages to not be as transparent as Derrell and barely manages to not get on my nerves. Then she does this bit of business with her knuckles and quite frankly, I found it a little adorable. I don’t know, maybe I’m going soft in my old age. I’m glad to see her through. I also enjoyed Simon’s lecherous smirk before the big smooch because it fits in with vision of him and I love to have my opinions validated. I’m immature like that.

Next up is Ace, and gee, I wonder if he’ll make it. You know, I think I might have finally figured out the reason for my intense dislike and I think it’s that he looks like my old friend’s brother and I keep on thinking that there’s something just not right with him. It’s like, Hey, you should be stoned. And why aren’t you wearing tie dye? When did you start being such a douche? He’s not the kind of guy who’s gonna laugh when you make hippie jokes about him or buy you cigarettes when you’re sixteen. Or it’s his hair, his horrible David Hasselhoff on Rogaine follicle nightmare. Or his distressed, only in the front, mind you, jeans with back pocket bandanna accessory. Perhaps it is a combination of all three. That’s most likely. Oh, oh, and his necklace. That, too.

And first up to lose their dignity is Eugena. I didn’t catch her last name, but I will forever remember her as a bitter crybaby thanks to the magic of television. It’s not that I don’t understand how completely emotional this whole ordeal is, but let’s act like professionals and remember that millions of people will be watching this shit. A little self respect goes a long way, ladies and gentleman.

Next up is Robert, whom I would like to make it based solely on his resemblance to the Mexican Drug Lord in Grand Theft Auto: Vice City. Then I see him jumping up and down and clutching at his mouth and I amend that to a gayversion of the Mexican drug lord in GTA. Nothing wrong with that. He’ll probably wind up getting on my nerves, but for now, I like him.

Then we are back with Eugena, who is giving away pieces of her soul to the camera free of charge. Don’t these people realize that emotional meltdowns only make the producers cry tears of elation?

Gideon is up next and is a bit too big for his britches. I agree fully with Simon’s “If he’d have given that speech before I wouldn’t have put him through”. I hate to see arrogance rewarded. Gideon has given the middle finger to karma, and we shall see if karma doesn’t get her revenge. (See Brittenum Twins)

Next up is Lisa Tucker, and I like how they pretend like there is any suspense to be had over whether or not she will make it through. We meet her beautiful mother, who seems to care, but not too much, and is displaying proper humility. Of course, Lisa makes it and is adorable. This could get on my nerves later, but for now, she’s alright by me. Her mom, however, rules.

Next up is the very pretty Stevie Scott who is doing herself no favors with a too dark lipstick and unfortunate orange top. There is almost nothing that makes me more sad than to see pretty young ladies who unknowingly fug the hell out of themselves. My life is very, very, empty. I can’t wait for the stylists to get a hold of some of these people.

Speaking of that very thing, next up is Chris Daughtry who has forsaken the chinstrap in exchange for some sort of tribal swirling sideburns. Both are annoying, but Jesus H…give me the chinstrap. I mean, they are barely wisps of a sideburn. Dear God, someone tell him to just fucking shave it off and be done with it. I want to like him, but he’s…he needs to shave. I’m having quite a hard time taking him seriously.

Here’s Ayla Brown, Super-achiever. These people run one of two ways, either they are insufferable, smug, narcissistic, assholes or, conversely, they are too busy being successful to crow about it and are the nicest, most thoughtful people you can meet. I’m reserving judgment on Ayla. I’m leaning nice, but it’s early and her dad’s a Senator.

And here’s Amanda Avila…no, wait, I mean Becky O’Donahue. No surprise that she makes it through. I kind of like her voice. We’ll see. There wasn’t too much to make fun of, so that bodes well for her. Or means she’s boring.

Now we wait on hooks and tenders to see whether the next finalist will be April Walsh, who maybe, not to hate, cos I’m no looker, but yeah…April is the definition of a nice personality, and I feel her there, but anyway, will it be April or the thin, blonde, pretty, Heather Cox? Oh, wow, it’s Heather! That certainly goes against everything I’ve ever thought about American Idol. If it’s any consolation, April, you were probably too good and they were scared that you might last a bit longer than they’d like.

Bucky Covington has two things going for him. For one, his name, given or otherwise, is Bucky. Secondly, he looks like a metal head stoner who maybe dabbles in crystal meth every once in awhile. I enjoy that in a televised singing competition. Unfortunately, there is twang on top of twang when he sings…and…no thanks, Bucky. I’m sorry.

Patrick Hall proves how much he doesn’t care about Ace by interviewing that, “He deserves to be here, even though he’s not a pretty boy like Ace”. Way to mask the old insecurities, there, buddy. He does indeed go through, and will continue to not care about Ace.

Bye, bye Michael Covington!

Ummm, Paris, darling, I wouldn’t be nervous if I were you. But it’s adorable that you are. I like her.

Wah-ha! The editor’s must have sacrificed a virgin to receive the Saga of the Brittenum twins. I still don’t know if they pulled this Dodge Magnum shit before they auditioned, but if they didn’t they are truly too stupid to live. I mean it. I know it’s harsh, but seriously, just put them away for the rest of their lives because you don’t deserve any more chances if you are going to blow it like that.

And hello, Kellie Pickler. Let’s see…Jesus comment, check. Southern accent, check. Crying, check. I don’t think that things are going to work out between you and me.

Even though Taylor Hicks dorks out in the weirdest way imaginable after the good news, I still like him. Mostly because of the way he conducts himself like a one man band, while performing. He is one of those guys who could wear a harmonica attachment on his guitar and not look like a tool. That’s pretty darn commendable.

Okay, now let’s take a minute to acknowledge how much Wil Makar looks like Fred Savage. Like, if Fred Savage were less hobbit, more elf. So I guess like a Fred Savage/Adam Brody test tube baby. I want him to move on, and yes, it is due to my fond memories of Kevin Arnold. No, I wasn’t raised by a television. What would give you that impression?

So that’s that and this grueling process of finding a top twelve is finally almost over. Can you believe they drag this shit out for 2 months? My God.

The 24 Semifinalists

THE TOP 24 CONTESTANT S



Twelve Chicks, Twelve Dudes, Twenty Losahs!

The night has come. The last night the judges can make any real decisions in the American Idol process and we anxiously watch as The Three Stooges eat it up like Honey Baked ham and mashed potatoes on Easter…deee-licious. The only thing we have to look forward to now are Simon’s biting analogies about their voice or choice of clothing, Paula’s incoherent rumblings, and Randy’s “I don’t know, Dog, it didn’t work fo me.” The no longer decide who is should stay and who should pack their shit and head it on home. So let us savor this tonight, because their Powers will not return until next year.


Before I get to the decisions can I just point out that Ryan looked unusually gross and hung over tonight? I mean, it could have been the satellite reception, but he looked gaunt and hairy (what’s up Shemale, you’ve got to shave that beard for TV) and he had dark circles under his eye. I will give you one good reason why I don’t like this haggard look on Ryan, it makes me think he was out all night drinking in a strip club, stuffing dollar bills down the undies of the “ugly one” and acting like every other normal man. I want to stay with my safe image of him sitting at home with his light up magnifying mirror studying every pore in his face, drinking chamomile tea out of a dainty cup and watching Notting Hill for the thirteenth time. Don’t screw up my fantasy, Seacrest, my fantasies are all I have.


The first three/four minutes were like rapid fire bullets buzzing past our heads in second long bursts:
Jessica Santo?—NO!
Bobby Bullard?—NO!
Brooke Barrettsmith?—NO!
Nick Whitten?—NO!
Stephanie White?—NO!
Crystal Stark?—NO!
Bobbie Dillard?—NO!
BAM
BAM
BAM
At this rate I was wondering how on earth they were going to be able to make an hour long show out of this. Then, of course, I remembered this was THE show to make an hour out of NOTHING. They never cease to amaze me in that department.


Kathryn McPhee, and early show favorite among the judges, and dare I say, me…got to do something that makes me absolutely hate her with the greenest color of envy in all the universe. For comedic purposes I should say “she kissed Paula,” but I can’t even for the joke, I’m too upset. Nope, she got to kiss Simon.
That does it, I’m auditioning next year.


Channeling Eddie Vedder, 1997, Ace Young is like sand under my skin, salt in my eyes, lemons in my mouth, and Celine Dion in my ears…he’s painful, people, painful. I hate you Paula, you and your hormones. I wish you would learn to control yourself. I saw that “phew” and waving air to your face when he left the room, all of America saw it, didn’t you learn your lesson last year?


One of the worst displays of Taking it Badly came in the form of a twenty six year old gal named Julie who proclaimed, “I’m 26 and it’s over. I have a six year old.
I’m. Twenty. Six. I’m done.”
I too am 26.
I’m done?
When did 26 become the new 35???


I think if anyone wants to dispel rumors that American Idol is weight-est or ugly-est (I don’t know if they’re claiming that one, but it seems to be true) then look no further than Top 24 Contestant Robert Bennet, Jr. There’s no mistaking him for skinny or pretty, he’s just a good singer and they picked him…now it is up to America to do the right thing.


There are people in this world that make me feel small, petty and completely immature in all levels of my personality. Mandeesa is one of those people. She calmly explained to Simon that he hurt her feelings and that she cried (something she managed to say without, in fact, crying. Wha?) Then she said she forgave him. She had me all the way up until she squeezed something about Jesus in there and I tuned out. Again, it’s a defense mechanism.


Then there was a fidgeting montage. I hate fidgeting and didn’t appreciate it the way it was meant to be taken. It was people around moving, tapping, thumbing and I could smell the sweat through the TV. Eww.


David Radford made it. This Standards crooning kid’s just not on my good list because he does the #1 Sinatra Face. Ugh. I liked his quote “I have no idea what I did right.” It just leaves it so wide open that I think I’ll leave it to the readers to decide what joke they want to insert.


Brenna Gathers…Simon! Simon, why do you have to let some loud mouthed, Titanic sized ego, chesty, spoiled brat into the competition every year? I think you hate your viewers… You secretly despise us all for watching this drivel and you’re tormenting us. Damn you, Simon. It works so well…

Group Auditions: Even more High School than Actual High School

American Idol: The Orpheum: Hollywood

Ah, Yeah, Sweetass, Sweet! I friggin’ LOVE the group auditions. They are like soap operas and highschool drama combined and it makes me long for the good old days of being heartless and cruel for no real reason. Tonight we have 99 of the heaviest egos in all of America in one auditorium to determine who is the best Idol…or rather…who is further along on the rag. Its backstabbing, its controversial, its hil-freaking-larious….Let’s begin!

Crystal:

Before the Performances—

So the Shakesperian Tragedy tonight begins with the lyspier than thou Terrell Brittingham who has been on a Nazi sized hissy because his group isn’t following his directions. Would anyone really take this guy seriously? Can you blame those two members of his group who went to sleep rather than get up and dance the night away? He’s like those English Bobbies with the ridiculous hats…there’s no authority there! I loved Terrell’s exclamation of “I don’t do groups!”…this is why I watch, because egos don’t like groups.

Performances—

Alright, every single year that I have watched AI I have had the same complaint during the group auditions, why don’t these people KNOW THESE SONGS? Not only does everyone have probably eight hours to memorize it, but these are old songs…they weren’t written last week…sheesh.

Turn it off Mariah Carey, turn on the Supremes every once in a while. That goes for the boys as well as the girls.

Paris Bennett is going to be a Superstar. Maybe not with this show. Maybe not for another few years. But, she’s going to be one of the best things that ever came out of this show. If she doesn’t win it will be like Britney Spears losing Star Search…her time will come…her time will come.

The Delphonics? Why don’t we just call them what they really are: The Tone-Deaf Motley Crew of Ugly. Sway, Anthony, Terrell, and Signature Normal White Guy, you guys should thank your lucky stars you were even able to be on TV. And, what a low, Terrell! Blaming ‘fro boy Anthony for being tone deaf after (he was the only one who didn’t make it on to the next round) was uncool. I turn deaf too when faced with listening to someone like Terrell for any length of time.

It’s a defense mechanism.

Why are there so many Rat Packers? Why are there four in a show that needs one, maybe none at all? I don’t understand the Judges appeal. It would be one thing if they just got up there and sang the type of music they liked, no one can be blamed for the type of music they like, but they all have to do that Face. They all do that smarmy, transparent, faux Sinatra face and it makes me want to laugh at them in a way that they can see me and know there’s a girl laughing at them. It’s mean. Please, guys, help me from being so mean.

Okay, and the Scene of the Night…Terrell and Darrell doing their best impressions of award winning Drama Queens. Darrell’s “heart was broken” after he misunderstood (possibly because he had his head up his ass) and thought his brother got booted. He respectfully declined on stage, in a most regal way, the invitation to stay in the comp…an American Idol first, I believe. As if that wasn’t funny enough, oh no, the O’Henry twist of it all was that Terrell was not booted, but in fact, asked to stay! Say it with me folks, Wah Fucking Hah. So the boys had to go back to the stage twice, with their fairy wings tucked delicately between their legs, and beg for forgiveness. This was seriously the best thing I’ve seen on here since Constantine was evicted! This is pure TV Gold!

Gina Takes on the Second Half

Break in format because I don't get to see the whole episode until I get some TiVo in my life, so Crystal is doing the first half and me the second. Fun times.

You know what I hate? I hate it when obnoxious, nitwit, attention whores decide to get all noble and make a big speech about how they’re going to quit because their stupid, oblivious, ass thinks their brother got cut. It’s not the speech that I hate so much as the pretending that it’s not about getting attention. It’s a really specific pet peeve but Derrell Brittenum, welcome to my sphere of hate. I was under the impression that the identity theft stuff meant that you would not be moving on in the competition. Certainly you wouldn’t BLOW IT LIKE THAT if you were a finalist. That’s what I kept telling myself, but after witnessing tonight, I believe that he, Good Sir Dodge Magnum of Hubris-shire, is capable of being that brazen. And stupid. What happens when you assume, Derrell? I did kind of like the “You shouldn’t have done that, bro”, from Terrell while Derrell shifts his eyes and looks for his next grift. His defeated tone alerts us to the fact that this probably isn’t the first time Derrell has gotten them both in trouble. It is interesting to note the Terrell is the one who turned himself in right away, after the unfortunate bust while Derrell went on the lam for a week. I think that helps make everything a bit clearer on the Brittenum twin dynamic front. I am reserving judgment on Terrell; the penal system might be able to rehabilitate him so long as they keep him far away from his brother.

There is like five seconds of Mandisa and everything is right in the world.

Awww, poor pretty Fran Drescher/Older, less annoying, Mikalah Gordon. You’re lucky those girls took you back, but, and maybe I’m stupid for this, but I would be really happy if everyone in my group sucked because when I go out there and do my thing, those lazy bitches are going to make me look good. Oh well, I guess it didn’t matter, anyway. It was nice knowing you.

Simon now chooses to let me down by allowing the Brittenum twins back into the competition. He is never going to learn if you keep validating his behavior. He is annoying in this specific, Drama Club kind of way. This whole pompous, look-at-me-please-look-at-me, selfishness that can only be found in people who were involved with theatre. Which makes sense since I have this whole “AI is America’s Drama Club” analogy; this whole deal is just big, nationwide audition for America: The Musical. And Derrell is so Drama Club it pains me.

Is it wrong that I enjoyed the Brokeback Mountain parody? I didn’t think it was funny, but I did get a little thrill from the utter subversiveness. I guess this is like grown up jokes in Pixar movies? If Shrek 3 has a Brokeback riff, I suppose I’ll know for sure that it’s okay to make gay cowboy jokes in front of children. I’d been wondering about that. Oh, and producers, why not utilize Ryan for such a skit? He could have gayed that up a notch but quick, in case you didn’t get your point across clearly enough.

Goodbye, Garet Johnson and your ability to turn my heart into corn syrup. At first, I’m so proud of the little guy who is doing a commendable job of keeping his shit together. Then, of course, he loses it, and for once I don’t mind the naked display of emotion. Probably because it’s genuine and not for the cameras or sympathy. Very refreshing. This is probably because I regard him as a child, as do the members of his group. I don’t think it’s possible to speak to him like an adult. It’s all just “Good job, little buddy. You did the best you could.” That’s all you can do when you are faced with innocence and goodness like that. I didn’t lose affection for him, even though he was terrible, and I didn’t lose respect because he cried. That’s unprecedented. I need a tape of Garet Johnson so that when I’m all pissed off or feeling cynical I can go downstairs and feel my heart grow three sizes just by listening to his little voice squeak “My mom says I’m like a steak, I have a really lot of talent, but I’m very raw.”

I love the song “Pretty in Pink” but I’m still not sure how I feel about good songs being used in commercials. I can’t listen to the Flaming Lips without thinking of Hewlitt Packard, and that just doesn’t sit right with me.

I already fully hate Ace. It’s his hair, I think.

Taylor Hicks had better make it.

I think anyone who is in a room with Mandisa is probably feeling pretty comfortable right about now.

Now is time to give props to room one, who is sent home by Simon. I saw only one crier and the moments of simple dignity are so few and far between on this show, so congratulations on not humiliating yourself. Well, except for you Cussing Crier. Bet you felt kind of stupid when you watched that back.

YAY! Taylor Hicks is sent through. I didn’t fall for their little trick. Ummm, there is NO WAY they aren’t sending Ace to the top 24. Have I mentioned that I hate him?

And to end the show, the emotional reuniting of the Brittenum twins. I was hoping that he wouldn’t see his brother and quit again, but alas, they share a tender, heart touching reunion. At least, that’s what it would be if it were at all sincere and not more showboating by the utterly loathsome Derrell. Have I mentioned I hate him, too? Because I do.

Boston is Wicked Awesome

Last chance for retribution, last chance to meet Simon, last chance for a chance. It was the last of the auditions and it was entertaining…I don’t know about the rest of you, but, I’m ready for some meat. I can’t wait for the backstabbing and breakdowns that tomorrow’s show will bring. Of course, before that, we must pay homage to tonight’s follies.

James “Ghost” Yokely Jr.

Crystal: He wants to be the American Idol because of “the way [he] flows” and because his sound is “melodos.” Well, let me pose this question, Ghost: What is worse than a white rapper? How about a badwhite rapper with an Original Patriotic Rap? Yeah, I vote for the latter. Ugh.

Gina: The only Patriotic Rap band I want to listen to is my ex boyfriend’s white guy rap group, Congress. (www.myspace.com/congress) Because unlike James Yokely, I know they mean it when they say “Bitches and butt sweat hanging from my nutsac” they mean it.

Red, White and BORING

Crystal: There should be some sort of law against Type A, All-American personalities and putting them on TV to make the rest of us look bad. Ayla Brown, with her Senator Father and TV Personality Mother in tow, sings well, plays basketball, and took a scholarship to college when SURLY some other person who was just as deserving and more in need wanted it. So, she got another thing handed to her, a ticket to Hollywood, and it just made me dislike her more. Cowell got it so right when he said there was “something empty” about her. Let’s see if she can work on that.

Gina: I know, she seems really nice, but my hate for her was both immediate and intense. I fucking hate perfect people. Yes, it’s because I’m jealous.

The Gypsy Soprano

Crystal: I mean, what’s the deal? Is it some sort of AI Rule that all foreigners need to be terrible singers? Don’t we laugh at foreigners enough in day to day life? Do they need to parade around on TV doing their worst karaoke performances to date? Please, Irada Jafarova, just stop. Don’t give people another chance to point and ridicule, you’re giving your country a bad name.

Gah! Another Pretty Girl

Crystal: So she’s not as boring personality wise as Ayla, but Rebecca O’Donahue (of the O’Donahue Twins) is just as boring of a singer. I hope this whole competition isn’t filled with soulless, bland, pretty girls. We need to stay at home behind our computers where we belong.

Gina: Not to be a dick or anything, but AI was founded on bland, soulless, pretty, girls. In fact, if I remember correctly, one won last year.

Keep It To Yourself!

Crystal: Tatiana Ward is like this girl I knew back in high school that I talked about behind her back. The reason I talked about her behind her back was very reasonable, she shared WAY TOO MUCH. She was forever talking about her horrible family life, her horrible childhood, how much she weighed, etc... all within the first few minutes of meeting her. That’s Tatiana’s problem. I do not care that you are trying out for AI because you want to get back at your Grandmother. No one cares. It’s weird. Trust me, Miss, you made no friends here tonight.

Gina: I, on the other hand, very much enjoy the person who shares too much because I am fascinated with people that have no shame. Especially when said shame is a painful past rife with domestic drama of Oprah book club proportions. I agree with you, Crystal, that it is weird, but I swear there is nothing better than being at the bar listening to the guy or gal that wants to tell you their entire, tragic, life story. Believe me, with enough booze, you go right past that uncomfortable, “I can’t believe you are telling a stranger these things” stage and right into “God, fucked up people are so interesting” phase.

Geriatric Idol

Crystal: Holly Corrente has a strange job. She sings and plays guitar to the elderly in rehabilitation homes to help them. Uh, since when does listening to someone play an acoustic guitar make people happy?

Gina: I’ve mentioned this guy before, the acoustic guitar playing douchebag poseur that used to come into my weekend job, and quite frankly he’s ruined unplugged guitar for me forever. Point is an acoustic guitar does nothing but make me want to break it in half and shove the neck up your ass and use the body to beat you to death with. That’s probably just me personally, though. God that guy sucked.

So Many Sound Bites, So Little Time

Crystal: False confidence brewing from a greased up, smarmy grinned, trendy priss is not my idea of a good time. It’s not Simon’s either from the looks of it, but Kenneth Maccarone, seemed to think that he was going to walk out of that room with some dignity after horrifying people with an uncannily similar sounding Cher song. Yeah. Alright. But this audition presented us with all kinds of great quotes and here is an array of some of my favs:

“They know what they want. And they’re going home with me.” Kenneth

“What was that??” Simon

“That was Cher.” Kenneth

“You do sound like Cher.” Simon

“Thank you.” Kenneth

****Best Moment of the Night****

Simon told Kenneth he needs to try Drag. Kenneth was pissy and after Kenneth storms out of the room with a huffy “Thank you for the opportunity.” Simon says, “…you try and help…” (and I really think he believes that)

Gina: My best moment had to be Simon’s “You do sound like Cher” which doesn’t sound nearly as hilarious written as it did when he said it.

I Blame Aiken

Crystal: I am beginning to hate that Clay bastard for all these assholes they let through the velvet ropes on their way to the televised audition just because they look like that HUGO dork with a good singing voice. Michael Sandecki looks like Clay but he doesn’t sound like Clay, and thank God, because I don’t want to see him evah again. And, really, since when does urine affect the vocal chords?...he was annoying on oh so many levels.

Gina: I know that this is probably just me, but I didn’t find him all that annoying. Probably because I was doubled over with tears of laughter at seeing this more rattish, skinner, and dare I say it because I did not think it was possible, gayer version of Clay. Michael Sandecki managed to be both more entertaining and less annoying than the real Clay and that’s saying a lot. Also, his pee line, I dunno, it made me laugh. I kept on thinking that it was like the 80’s comedy classic, “Twins” starring Arnold Schwarzenegger and Danny De Vito. Clay would be the one who got all the good genes, the singing voice, the (alleged) charm, while Michael got whatever was left over. That is so heartbreaking….to know that you are little more than a less talented, uglier version of the Gayken. But less annoying and creepy, so you have that Michael. Good luck to you.

We Know, We are Disappointing

So I promised something I couldn't deliver on. This is not the first time, and may not be the last. As this was an incredibly busy and stressful week for both of us, we have lagged on the show that is most important to us. I will give you my thoughts from Tuesday night's Idol and next week we will show our amazing resiliance and bring you something much, much better...

Anyways here go...

This season of American Idol has Simon all in a tuft. I do not envy his job of sitting through endless hours of talentless ne're do wells with only the solace of a washed up ex-dancer and the Dawg Master, Randy. Poor Simon. It must be hard being rich and having to do something you don’t want to. I know I would be in a tuft in his spot too. Well. Let’s just get on with tonight’s embarrassments.

Go Home and Have a Smoke, Mon
What was the best part about Alexia “Die-lan” Linchetta? Was it the ridiculously obvious dread wig? Nope. Was it the ridiculously obvious fake Jamacian accent? Nope. Was it the fact that the Three Disciples saw through his gimmick within the matter of seconds? Nope. The best part is that Dylan cried. Yeah, I know its mean but I don’t care. He wasted valuable moments of my time with his routine and I won’t feel sorry for him because it didn’t work out. Hopefully he learned his lesson.

Déjà vu
So that Krazy Beotch Bobbie Maye showed up again, you remember her right? She was on last year predicting that she would make it onto AI because she was a psychic. And not a charlatan, she was for-reals psychic. She was just having an off night. This year I predicted she was back to make another Giant Ass of herself, and you know what? I think I’ve got the gift. She through us for a loop though, she was back to bring her boring, expressionless, tone deaf sister Erica Davis to the audition. What a treat! See you next year, Bobbie!

****Best Moment of the Night****
After Bobbie told them that she would definitely see everyone next year, Simon pleaded, “No, please don’t come back! Can’t you just watch it next year?” I love that man.

I’m Bored With You
Ryan Hart with any luck, if you keep doing your “singing,” you will lose your voice without any hope of getting it back by the age of 28. It’s going to be a long, hard ten years for your friends, buuut, I’m guessing you don’t have many anyway.

Translations
David Mandzak says: “I have a lot of energy and heart.”
Translation: “I have no singing ability.”
Paula Abdul says: “I really enjoyed your performance.”
Translation: “I really enjoyed laughing at you.”

Just…gah…Deport Him
So Haggai Yedidya wants not only to be an American but wants to be the American Idol. I might find this whole thing endearing if he hadn’t sang my most hated song in the History of Songs, “I’m Proud to be an American.” I HATE THAT SONG. Sorry, Haggai. Talk to your American friends to find out what’s cool next time.

The Queen is Dead
So Princess Brewer describes her voice as sounding like Aretha Franklin. I had no idea the Queen of Soul sounded that bad. I feel like we’ve all been duped somewhere. Off with her head!


The Grey Idol
You know what? I like Taylor Hicks. I do not like his grey hair because I feel like if girls have to dye their hair, then, so should boys. I do not like his Ray Charles meets Joe Cocker dance impression. I don’t like that he sings out of his mouth like a Muppet. BUT, he has a tremendous singing voice and ANYONE who sings Sam Cooke that well is going to be on my good side. I am going to hope he goes far in this competition just because I want to hear him sing. Is it possible to just listen to the American Idol without actually having to look at them?