Anyway, David headed in and sang his way, amazingly, into Simon's heart. The surly judge had a pure hard-on for the kid, and no wonder. According to Paula, "the package is great." Unfortunately for Simon, Randy was not a big fan of David nor his package, which meant that it all came down to Paula. Well, you know how that goes. Paula will never deny anyone their dream (or a potential late night rendez-vous), and so David skated by, but not without homework. "You better work it out, man!" Randy yelled at him. Sure. Whatever that means, Mariah.

And now, my favorite girl of the night: the nutty, slutty Crystal Parizanski featuring Momma Hootch. We first met the ladies outside as they strolled up to the auditions with miniskirts, hooker makeup, and fake bakes aplenty. "I guess I'm an outgoing person. I love singing, dancing, modeling, everything in the entertainment field. It's like my life," Crystal told us, as her mom, who looked like the grand madame of the Fraggle Rock Bordello, watched on. "I swear to God. Like everything I do is based on that. Like, cause, I don't know. I listen to music every day. I don't know, it just makes me feel so happy. I'm just going on and rambling." Go ahead, Crystal. Ramble all you want. It's like nectar from the reality gods.

Hot and Hotter.

Anyway, Crystal zipped into the audition room all full of bubbly energy and possibly some light Mystic Tan poisoning. "Need me to explain anything?" she asked dimwittedly. Oh, where to start?

Luckily, Simon piped up immediately, saying, "Yes, the tan."

"Okay, um, my name is Crystal, um, I just turned 16--"

"No, I want to hear about your sun tan," Simon reiterated.

"Okay, I'm singing 'And I'm telling you' by Jennifer Holiday and--" Crystal continued. Either she was shrewdly avoiding Simon's mockery, or she was a complete idiot. Most likely the latter.

Finally, Crystal realized that "I want to hear about your sun tan" actually meant that someone wanted to hear about her sun tan (I know, English is very tricky), and so she replied, "Oh, I go tanning." So that's it! Here I thought she'd been subject to radioactive exposure! Well, I'm still not sure I'd rule that out.

Anyway, after telling Simon that the sun tan wasn't really of the highest importance (ouch!), Crystal then launched into her ear-piercing song, which featured all growl and melisma, but not much by way of texture or melody or talent in general. Paula mercifully halted the caterwauling, and as the panel sat in stunned silence, Simon asked Crystal what her mom thought about her. Well, one thing led to another, and next thing we knew, Crystal was dragging her pterodactyl of a mother into the room. This was spectacularly wonderful for us because for the first time, we really got to see Mom in all her aged, pathetic, crusty, and disturbing glory. Just like us viewers at home, the judges couldn't help but laugh at this bizarre sight, with Simon noting that now he understood where Crystal found her daily inspiration. Ah, reality TV. Reminding us why our lives ain't so bad. This show really is about the American Dream!

It's like Walter Matthau in drag.

So... when does their reality show premiere?

Well, just in case you were wondering, the judges nixed Crystal, but not without a limp fight from Ma. "This means so much to her," Crystal's mom said, her voice woozy and soft as if she'd been sedated with White-Out.

"I'm better than most of the people here, and I know that!" Crystal said rapidly, suddenly transforming from sweet, bubbly idiot to sassy, ghetto idiot.

Later, Ryan questioned Crystal, saying that prior to the audition, she thought she had everything it would take to make it to the next round. Before he could even finish, she suddenly interrupted him, saying, "I don't care what they say! This is not the next round. The next round is when I become a star. American Idol is not the next round." Yeah! That's the spirit! Triumph over adversity! And for all you wondering, the next round for Crystal is chasing a ball of string around the kitchen.

Up next was the international segment. First was some guy whose grandfather was the Assyrian Elvis. The dude wore a traditional Assyrian outfit, which would have been awesome had this been Nineveh Idol (that Ashurnasirpal Cowell is one tough a-hole). Anyway, turns out this guy was a fertile crescent of flat notes and guttural sounds, and it didn't long for him to see the cuneiform on the wall. The judges cut him, and in a surprisingly patronizing move, Paula asked if she could keep the guy's hat. It's been passed down from generation to generation, probably since the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, but, you know, whatever. You can have it, Paula. Amusingly, the guy just ignored her and walked out, which was the exact right thing to do.

Next was Yuliya Matus, a Ukrainian performer whose visa was about to expire. The best way to describe this girl was sort of like the mail-order version of Oksanan Baiul. Yuliya had an odd charisma, a funky cowboy hat, and a can-do attitude. Plus, she had giant hoop earrings that could double as a postmodern trapeze set. All she lacked were any sort of vocal skills. Or dance moves. Still, she tried. In probably the worst rendition of "Bohemian Rhapsody" -- not including my latest version, which premiered in my car on the way home from work 30 minutes ago -- Yuliya shakily tooted her way through the classic song, occasionally twisting and collapsing on the floor for added emphasis. Well, you know how these stories go. Girl comes to America. Girl finds false hope in America. Girl gets rejected by reality show. Girl cries. Girl's accent becomes ten times thicker and incomprehensible. Girl disappears into the underground sex trade. Good luck, Yuliya!

Posted by B-side on January 19, 2006 6:40 AM