It’s my turn to take a stab at Idol and it couldn’t have happened on a better day! The camera pans The Rose Bowl in beautiful Pasedena and it is actually sunny in Cleveland too! And I had so much fun watching this episode! Holy crap! I should probably write this down on my calendar. Sorry about all the exclaimation points. I’m in a really good mood, not too good of a mood that I’m going to be extra nice to anyone, no worries there. Just good enough that I only wanted to strangle Kara a wee bit less than average. You know- just to blackout, not death.There are almost 11,000 losers crammed into the stadium today, slightly less that the ones that were rooting for Oregon this past New Years. I’m automatically an Ohio State fan because my uncle went to school there. It’s like being African American or Italian. If you have slightest drop of Buckeye blood, you are indoctrinated into the fanhood the moment you come out of the womb. I’m pretty sure it’s on my birth certificate. You check that in alittle box here in Ohio, or ‘other.’
Speaking of ‘other,’ do you think that would be the ‘sex of child’ box our first contestant’s mom checked when filling out his birth certificate? He looks like a pre-op Patti Duke. His name is Neil Goldstein and he has an IQ of 168. He likes to read, can draw a mean lipstick heart and posesses a litany of diverse interests. You name it, he’s into it.
Except pussy, of course.
That’s too bad because the sk8er boi lover herself, Avril Livigne, is our first judge today. She’s wearing a hoodie with little horns sewn into it, jeans and sneakers. So, yeah. She got really dressed up for this gig. This is what happens when you have never been on a job interview in your life and someone gives you free reign on a fashion line at 17. Isn’t she supposed to be punk?
Because having a label sold at Kohls just SCREAMS edgy.
My plumber has more flair for fashion than she does. More valuable skills, too. She’s cute, though, in a ‘I’m too cool to get braces,’ kind of way. So, let’s get back to Neil and his highly functioning sweat glands.
I understand that you would perspire a lot in this kind of nerve racking audition, but holy hell! I hope his mommy brought a gallon of Gatorade because he had to have lost several pounds in there. I half expected someone to be pushing a mop behind him as he walked in.
He’s so sweet and clueless too. He lives in a romantic inner world of fairy tales and new age recipes for happiness. When Tink asks him what the name of his imaginary first album would be, he says ‘Hope.’
You forgot the ‘less.’
He opens his mouth to speak in front of the judges and this weird click sound comes out of his mouth. He is so painfully shy that I am amazed that he got up the courage to be here in the first place. So, you go girl, or boy, or gender neutral pronoun of your choice!
He has decide to sing ‘Rock & Roll Dreams Come True’ by Meatloaf. Oy. He’s into epic romantic prog rock too. Ladies, get in line. Me first.
He gets out “Remember everything that I told you….” and then trails off into a stupor. He forgot the words. How ironic, as Simon says. How sad. He looks like a dejected blind man and Avril laughs in his face. Nice job. Not only is she a poser, she’s a bully too.
Kara tries to be kind but Simon dashes his hopes and tells him he’s out, but the annoying bugger won’t leave! Out of nowhere, he grows a pair and refuses to accept defeat, insiting that he is going to Hollywood. It’s his destiny, gosh darnit! Uncle Martin told him so!
It’s at this point where you want to pat the guy on the back and tell him not to take it so hard, the world needs a cure for cancer, or someone to find one good reason why Kara is on this show, so maybe he and his huge IQ could go work on that for a while. But they have 5 billion other people to see and he shuffles out the door to obscurity. At least this time Simon didn’t hit him with the door, which he did earlier because the big doofus was standing right in front of it. This guy belongs in a Christopher Guest movie.
For Your Consideration- Pest In Show
He’s not taking this very well. In his fantasy, things turned out much differently. How will he get through this? What’s a guy to do?
“Give me a sign, God! Anything!”
Oops. He tripped over an actual sign. Well, you can’t ask for much more than that.
Since this show is watched by millions of Americans and a good portion of those folks are good God fearing Christians, our next contestant is no surprise. Say hello to our hirsute geetar slingin’ pastor from Bakersfield, Jim.
He has three kids, a wife and a pleasantly child cluttered home in the ‘burbs. He’s hitched his star to Idol because it seems that the collection plates aren’t fillin’ up like they used to before this awful recession business and he has hungry mouths to feed.
He’s singing a song that he wrote, a gutsy move on his part, and he sounds okay. I couldn’t tell you for sure since I’m not familiar with the song. How do they know if he got the words right? The notes? Oh well, they are the judges, not me.
Right away, Avril brings up the fact that families and touring don’t mesh well, a valid concern on her part, and then Randy opens his mouth and says that he likes the ‘uh-aw’ in his voice. WTF? Is that an actual vocal term that they teach at Julliard or something? My dad was a music professor and I don’t remember him ever mentioning that particular term. I’d ask him but he’s dead, so help me out here.
They send him on through, he gets all teary at the prospect of being able to afford to buy more Stryper albums, and whoa….who’s the cute boy with the dreads sitting in the left lower foreground?
Can we hear him next, please? And can he sing naked?
I apologize for the crappy screen grab quality. Fox is not very generous with the online video and taking pictures off of my TV would have been even worse. Complain to Fox! Assholes. Like they don’t make enough money off this show as it is.
It would be a lot more fun than the ear shattering montage of local talent show rejects we are subjected to next. They even include an asian guy singing ‘Kung Fu Fighting,’ and a freaking greaser. Who on earth dresses up like a greaser these days?
Simon is busy flirting, telling Avril that it’s fun having a little devil around, and then Damian walks in. Not the evil fictional president of the United States, but a Corey Feldman look-alike who practices martial arts. Oh, THAT Damian, you say. Thanks for clearing that up. You’re welcome.
They show him doing his moves on a roof somewhere, and I’m positive that casting directors all over Hollywood are dying to get ahold of him at this very moment.
To show their clients what NOT to do.
In his warm-up there is one high note that he is having trouble reaching. He calls it his nemesis, the Khan to his Kirk. The Tom to his Jerry. The Alexis to his Krystal. The Swiss to his Cheddar.
You see, our boy here is a humble sandwich maker, so be extra nice to him the next time he slaps provolone on your Italian sub, eh Gasmii? I’m pretty sure that he’s gonna need to keep his day job.
He has chosen ‘You’ve Lost That Loving Feeling,’ by the Righteous Brothers, and he stares at the floor right up until the moment when his voice cracks. Then he whistles and stares at the ceiling, just to mix it up, you know?
Silence. He choked. Or croaked, to be more accurate. Simon tells him to “just go,” and he does. His nemesis has won today. Tune in tomorrow, when…….he goes head to head with a meat slicer. It ain’t gonna be pretty, and I hope that Subway has EMS on speed dial.
It’s cutie pie time and we get to ‘oooo’ and ‘ahhhhh’ over all the adorable children of these delusional hopefuls. One little midget tells Tink that she’s going to be on the show when she turns 16. He says that he’ll be too old for her when that day comes. Oh, please. He’s made the same deal with the devil that Dick Clark did. He’ll be cute and young looking well into his 60s.
It’s the whole liking girls part that he hasn’t quite mastered.
I honestly don’t care if he’s gay. I’m one of the few people I know that thinks he’s cute. Before you stone me, realize that I live in Ohio and my nearest gay bestie is in Chicago, and I haven’t seen him since November. I am suffering from serious fag hag withdrawals that no amount of Drag Race previews can assuage. Waaaaaah! Now I’m sad. Moving on.
After some little six year old decked out in Ed Hardy (child abuse) tells his mom she sucks, we come to tiny Mary who dresses like she got a few too many Hot Topic gift cards from her family this Christmas. She has a cute 8 year old who loves Simon because he’s the ‘negativity one.’
Since wearing all black seems to be a theme in her family, color me not surprised. Mary looks like Anna Faris with short spikey black hair and daddy looks like a more chipper Billy Corgan. She sings a Pat Benatar song and does it justice, only with a raspy rock chick voice.
Simon makes fun of her cliched rocker look but she gets a golden ticket which means that the little one gets to meet Simon, humanizing him for a split second.
They skip out the door together and let me be the first to nominate her for a major look overhaul.
We are treated to an insane montage of Glambert rip-offs that most of which, thankfully we don’t have to listen to. Jim is the only one they show auditioning on camera mostly because he sent a song to none other than the real Adam Lambert and got positive feedback too!
Okay, I lied. They don’t show him auditioning because of some stupid song he wrote. They show him because he sings like he woke up one day with Bell’s Palsy. I mean, like the day he auditioned.
He sings out of one side of his mouth, which he barely opens. This technique, if you want to call it that, lends itself to making ‘Cult of Personality’ sound like ‘Curt Erv Purse Son Gerd Ah Dee,’ which might make sense if this were a poetry recital at a school for the deaf. But it’s not.
Avril laughs in yet another contestant’s face, Kara grooves to whatever fumes Paula left behind and Simon says that he sounds like he’s got an oral cavity full of novacaine. Everyone tells him to open his mouth more and he says, “so it’s a visual thing?”
No, goober. It’s a visual, aural, unintelligible horror show thing. Please leave before I take a cheese grater to my ear canal.
It’s Day 2 and why is there a really pretty clown on my TV?
Oopsy, my bad. It’s Katy Perry. It seems like she only stopped applying make-up a couple of degrees shy of Tammy Faye Baker. If this is her day look, I would hate to see what her night look is. She must turn into Jackie Stallone.
She’s moved on from stealing Zoe Deschanel’s look and has started rummaging through Dita von Teese’s Salvation Army donation bags, which SHE stole from old Hollywood actresses of the 40s. It’s insane. She’s like a derivation of a derivation of a derivation.
She claims to be brutally honest, so is she going to tell us how big Russell Brand’s weiner is? No? Well, then I don’t care what she has to say, especially after she gives the judges crap for arriving in a helicopter.
As far as I’m concerned, Simon can come to auditions on a freaking flying carpet and I wouldn’t make a single peep. He is a God compared to her and if he wants to roll her up in said carpet and throw her into the Pacific, she should thank her lucky stars and buy the Persian herself.
So I don’t like her. There, I said it. You can disagree with me all you want but there is something really phony about her that sets off my BS meter. She is the antithesis of the kind of person that I would want as a friend. The kind of girl that you don’t trust around your boyfriend. Or even your favorite lipstick.
Ugh, let’s look at some loonies.
Somewhere in California, a dozen or so girls are holding their remote right now and rewinding their half second appearance in the ‘look at the goofy girl in the crazy outfit’ montage, screaming. I’m not sure if they dress like this to attract attention or if they made a big mistake.
Hey, Bertha! The Tim Burton movie auditions are next door!
The clothing is a cross between Harajuku girls and Creepy Dolls by Bastet 2329, only on the fat girl that can never manage to do a full pull-up in gym.
And neither can our next contestant but I love his shiny shirt! His name is Austin and he works in a water treatment plant. That’s awful. I think that he’s a little bit brain damaged by whatever chemicals they use in those places.
His song is ‘Surrender’ by Cheap Trick, and his performance is a cross between David Johanson and Mick Jagger, but he can clap his hands and feet at the same time. That’s got to be worth something, right?
Is there a Cirque du Soleil for spastics?
Simon tells him to stick to getting the poopy smell out of sewer water and he’s another one who begs for a second chance, freaking all the judges out. Katy asks Kara if they frisk all the contestants before they audition, which is not a small worry if there are other people out there who are more annoyed by her than I am.
A disappointed Austin is having a hard time understanding this sorry turn of events. I mean, Katy and Kara totally lit up while he was performing! Here’s proof-
“Hey, Katy. If ..you..don’t…move,….maybe..he’ll leave.”
The fragile guy breaks down in tears and Tink consoles him. Awwww, but he’s not the biggest cryer, not by far. Look! There’s a girl pushing her mother away while she wails like an infant in the throes of the worst diaper rash ever! Over there! Another one is reliving a pain worse than that time she found out that Santa was really daddy, only drunker.
I hope they don’t tape this show near any tall bridges.
I really like the next guy. His name is Andrew Garcia and he grew up poor with parents that were gang members. He has a cute little son and his wife is the only Latina I’ve ever seen with the guts to rock a Kate Gosselin hairdo. I am not going to say one bad word about her since I can barely bitch slap a person, let alone use a stiletto, and I value my life.
They show his parents and they have stars in their eyes for their son and his bright future. His dad cries, he’s so proud of him. I love it when tatted up men cry. I eat that shit UP.
And Andrew has a great voice! I listened to him twice and I never do that. They send him on and I will definitely be watching him, partly to see his dad tear up in the audience, partly to see if his woman keeps the ‘do.
There have been way more men than women that can sing until Tasha the P.A./Minister steps up to to the mic. She sings a Joss Stone song and does well, I guess. I almost fell asleep. Simon likes her, Katy compliments her southern charm and now I’m dying for some fried chicken.
Weirdo alert! Weirdo alert! Jason Green has a really creepy sex face. I would not be surprised if there was some inappropriate touching in his background. Don’t ask me whether he was on the giving or the receiving end of it, just trust that I wouldn’t leave him alone around my puppy, let alone an actual human being.
They do a super close-up of his zits and if you ever wondered if Buffalo Bob ever had kids, wonder no more. Even better is his choice of music- ‘I Touch Myself’ by the Divinyls. Didn’t see that coming, didja?
Watching him is like watching your parents make out. I want to run out of the room and take a scalding hot shower, followed by Tommy Lee Jones waving one of those flashy pens in front of my eyes.
Not Kara. Nope. She’s writhing around in her seat like the drunk chick at the office Christmas party.
Please, please don’t start passing out photocopies of you boobs when you’re done.
He ends his nasty performance on his knees where Simon makes him stay for his evaluation. Nice. They trade innuendos and he snarks Katy for having her boobs hanging out. Finally, they kick him out of the room and he gives Tink his number in the hallway.
No fair! Ryan gets all the pretty ones!
Tink takes the piece of paper with Buffalo Jason’s number and sticks it into the shirt pocket of one of the huge bouncers. At least I think he did. For all I know he did a switcheroo and gave the big guy his own digits.
Nah. If he liked bears, he’d be dating Simon by now.
Here’s another shocker- they show Katy sabataging Kara’s picks over and over again. I lost count of how many times she vetoed one of Kara’s choices. As funny as that might be to all the Kara haters out there, it also proves my point about Katy. She’s a bitch, and she can fuck off.
Case in point: our last guy, who comes complete with a sob story of being bounced from foster home to foster home, 25 times in all. Kara rambles on about how America is going to love him and his amazing story when Katy interrupts her by saying, “This isn’t a Lifetime movie.”
No, bitch. It’s only his freaking LIFE. I hope that he and his Sideshow Bob hair make it huge while your star fades and you end up begging him for the time of day. On your knees, of course.
The kid sang ‘Stand By Me,’ and he did all right. He shows potential and has a lot of heart, so I hope he does well. I just hope that this doesn’t turn into a case of ‘real’ parents crawling out of the woodwork, but it probably will.
By the way, why were there hardly any African Americans in this episode? You’d think that it took place in Minnesota for God’s sake, there was such a lack of color. Strange, no?
We end with a bunch of clips of the rest of the winners and that’s it, Gasmii! Tune in next time and join me & the next recapper in scratching our heads every time that Kara or Randy comes on the screen. They should just replace them with those animatronic characters from Chuckie Cheese. It wouldn’t be any less enlightening.
Love and Kisses,