This week’s guest judge is Gene Simmons from Kiss, a man who looks remarkably similar to my local shawarma dealer, Mukhtar. I never thought I’d say this, but I really miss the days when Mark McGrath guest judged. At least he was alright to look at.

First up on the chopping block is David Brown, who tells us that singing is where his heart is. For me, it’s always been on top of a dog house. David really gives Randy a run for his money in the “Who has the smoothest, richest, most beautiful chocolately skin?” contest. He lays the track down, singing a gospel tune with everything he’s got. Randy says it’s the best he’s heard. Simon gives him a “100% yes”. Gene Simmons, who has only been on screen for 10 seconds and is already making my skin crawl, tells David he’s going to Hollywood, the same way a child molester would encourage you to get in his van.

We see a little sketch where Seacrest is signing an autograph for a young boy. The boy gets the paper and says “Ryan Seacrest? I thought you were Clay Aiken!” And now that they mention it, I see the resemblance!

The next singer up is Bobby Barfoot, an overweight, afro-ed femme-guy in a rhinestoned button down shirt. Seacrest claims that Bobby is wearing one of his shirts, again making fun of himself, and therefore jumping up a couple of notches on my speeddial.

Bobby is literally a huge fan of American Idol, so much so that he even collects playing cards of all of the past contestants, keeping them organized in a binder. This really brings me back to my youth, when I had a minor obsession with Garbage Pail Kids cards, and would organize my Kitty Litters and Graffiti Peteys organized in the same manner. Then again, I was only 7.

Bobby's method for facing worldwide rejection is unique, as he decides to yodel. Simon pegs him (zing!) by being a cross between a rodeo singer and La Cage Aux Folles. Paula’s circuit boards start hissing and smoking, and she throws an unnecessary fit due to Simon’s attitude. She gives Bobby my favorite criticism by tell him that he needs to change his image. Code for: You’re ugly.

Simon and Paula continue arguing about Bobby’s chops, when they decide to send him behind the screen and sing, so that they can hear him without actually having to look at him. They may as well have pulled out a brown paper grocery bag full of dog dookie and ordered him to put it on his head. He sings, and the panel mocks him. Short story long, byebye Bobby.

Hey everyone! Buckle up! Cause here’s a guy who wants to shake things up at the auditions by being (gulp) weird! Daron Beck is trying to look like Robert Smith from The Cure. Only, something tells me Daron’s band would be called “The Disease.” (Rimshot!) Soulpatch and Vidal Sasson bob aside, Daron wants to be “different” and create music that’s not “disposable.” Daron starts off with one of my ALL-TIME FAVORITE SONGS called “Delilah” by Tom Jones (pausing to throw bra at screen) and -- wait! What is he doing?! He is butchering my favorite song! Download the original if you don’t believe me, along with everything else Tom Jones has ever put out. And trust me, he puts out.

Daron is just all together weird, voice, image, everything. Then -- wait! He breaks out into “I Put A Spell On You”, another top choice for me, and manages to sound like Kathleen Turner getting a colonoscopy. He also contorts his mouth in this altogether horrendous way that brings to mind Robert DeNiro in Awakenings. Daron might as well have waltzed into this room humming the theme to Schindler’s List and pissing on my picture. He has ruined everything sacred to me. Simon tells him he should be wearing ladies underwear and red lipstick and singing in a cabaret somewhere, and it is clear that Simon is realllly into the idea. Daron is out.

Lindsey Cardinale has a nice, crisp voice and impresses the judges. She’s pretty good, although her demeanor makes me want to take a midday nap. It’s way too “collected” (read: drugged). She’s in.

Robert Solomon is a total plant. A white t-shirt, coat-hanger shoulders, and high-water pants, he’s a film projectionist. Either he’s an actor being paid by Fox (something I really believe they do), or is just some kinda moron out for a good time. He’s completely terrible, but I like him. The judges don’t bother rejecting him, they just say “Thanks”, and he gets the idea and leaves.

Montage: Some guy who sings with one finger firmly planted in his belly button, a fat guy who has to breathe mid-word, and a guy singing jingle bells with a pretty convincing horse-clomping noise.

Posted by on January 27, 2005 8:22 AM