Inspirational. Like Burger King is Fine Dining.
Now don’t get me wrong. I think the whole “Idol Gives Back” thing is a great idea. Especially if it can help some of those kids that Miley and Billy Bob visited learn how to read. They may not be able to afford books, but I bet you that everyone one of those little spider monkeys know exactly who Hannah Montana is and her doppelganger Ms. Cyrus, and Disney is a friggin’ premium channel! (By the way, I heard that Miley will be a billionaire–with a B–by age 20! Couldn’t you drop a hundred and a case of Top Ramen on your way out of the trailer?) That aside, I don’t think that giving to charity should be interwoven with the crushing of one’s dream. Even when that dream is to warble the falsetto part of Aerosmith’s “Dream On” horribly off key whilst wearing a ridiculous ascot for the SECOND WEEK IN A ROW!
Are you kidding me Michael Johns?
I could see by your face that you were shocked to be in the bottom three, much less to be escorted off of the show that is helping you to achieve your dream, but help me here, sport-o. When your stylist was all “You know what I’m thinking? Ascot. Again. But this time in yellow. It really seemed to put the attention on your face.” Of course it did, because for the entire duration of the song, I found myself saying, “Is that a freaking cravatte around his neck?” Apparently to Michael John’s stylist, it is indeed 1912, and we should all be wearing top hats and large colorful towels around our necks. On our way to the auto factory where we’re going to work on this new thing called an “assembly line.” It’s great for Monopoly but for someone trying to be a pop singer? ? I blame you, yellow horrid piece of cloth.
However, Mr. Johns I will miss you for purely selfish reasons. Not only were you a speedbump to actual entertainment like David Cook every week, but no longer is watching an episode of American Idol an automatic trip to Makeout City. Party of Two. On my couch. I’ll now need to get my action the old fashioned way. By buying shoes. Thanks, Mike.
Seacrest is Not a Nice Man.
And for all his posing as a “nice guy”, Ryan Seacrest is a veritable cold-blooded killer. A ninja in sheep’s clothing. A Joey Buttafuoco to your Amy Fisher. A guy named Roger living in a van down by the river. For a moment there we all probably thought that Mr. Johns was going to have a week’s reprieve from the executioner. After all, that’s the precedent that was set last year whilst we were “giving back.” But like a governor who doesn’t call death row on the white courtesy phone before midnight, Ryan pulled the rug out from under us and announced that yes, Michael would indeed be leaving us this week. Have anything to say about the Tooth Fairy or Santa Claus or the world actually being flat for that matter while you’re at it, Johnny Ruthless? You must have had a miserable childhood with very sharp, painful toys.
And I was going to let it go, as I didn’t want to taint one more post with a gratuitous jumblies mention, but Paula certainly deserves a WTH as her poor girls seemed to be screaming for air or to be let out of their lycra prison as she struggled to create some semblance of cleavage. She was one Over-Eager Paula Seal Clap™ away from showing us what her Mama gave her. And I think I speak for all of us when I say, if they were good enough for Emilio Estevez in 1996, they ain’t good enough for me in 2008. Straight up now tell me! I couldn’t find a photo of her, but if she had the cojones to wear what Fergie wore, I would have cut her some slack.
Kentucky Fried Cook!
And as soon as I saw Ms. Kentucky Fried Cook come out on the stage, I said in my head, “I’m sorry to see her go this week, as they’re finally starting to accentuate the fact that she’s fairly attractive.” Sparkly top aside, she DID sort of look and more shockingly SOUND like a star. Or at the very least an extra on an episode of “The Hills”. Her ensemble and curly hair would have been a natural as “Starbucks Coffee Barista Serving Audrina”, or “Girl Eating Lunch Just Out of Focus Range Behind Stephanie Pratt and her Bizarre Headband” or something equally weighty. Apparently when KLC sticks to country, America responds! And I was extremely disappointed that she didn’t get a chance to break out her “hilarious” note to indicate where her seat actually was. Weirdly enough I believe for the first time ever, she got to take a seat on the soft couches. The power of the sparkly top!
There’s been so much talk about Carly’s appearace that I won’t dwell on it too much. Except to say that everyone said she was looking so “good” this week. If good means it appears you walked right out of a Mervyn’s catalog, then so be it. The high-waisted pants make a re-appearance after the departure of Malubyebye! And they’ve been coupled with a strange tank top and a golden belt that I wore with my Tuffskins in 1978. If this is good, I wouldn’t want to see “rumply.”
Simon thought that her performance of Queen (Queen? Has Michael Johns taught us nothing? Leave Queen where they belong! In cruise ships and talent competitions across the world!) was “a bit angry” to which Carly says:
I will kill you with my eyeballs. Love, Carly Smithson.
I was sure that dear Syesha was going to be leaving us this week. Not only did she sing Fan-effing-tasia (The. WORST. American Idol. Ever. Even. Seacrest. And. His. Deliberate. Intonation. Thinks. So.) but she really needs some pointers on picking from the vast song library of inspirational songs. Not only has she never selected a Bon Jovi, Hall and Oates or Lionel Richie selection, but she sticks to the same boring American divas. What, no Aretha Franklin this week? How about a Celine Dion? Or ANOTHER freaking Whitney Houston song. Again. I am so bored right now, not even your freakish baby cry will allow me to drum up any enthusiasm for you.
People like David Archuleta.
I dislike his Dad. So there.
David Cook, a tad disappointing.
Starting with the ruffly Prince and the Revolution straightjacket all the way down to the “Give Back” scrawled on his palm. Thanks for that, David. By the way, you are SOOOO pompous right now. And “Our Lady Peace” is your favorite band? I liked them a little bit in 1996. And then I discovered music. I look forward to what you’re going to whip up for Mariah Carey week next week however. With Michael Johns gone, my wife would like to request “Touch My Body.” Think about it.
Jason Castro, a tad fashion-backward.
Jason Castro purchased a ukelele just for this performance? What, is he performing for like 30 million people or something? Pull out all of the stops, JaCa! His song was pretty good, but after discovering the original author, Israel Kaʻanoʻi Kamakawiwoʻole (I totally didn’t even have to look up the spelling or anything!) and slapping this song on my wedding video five years ago (Eat it, Castro! What were you then, twelve??) that it paled a little bit in comparison. However wearing a Mr. Rogers cardigan (Good idea.) With no shirt underneath it. (Bad idea. And kind of skeevy.)
Until next week!