Thursday night’s AI results show was an extraordinary episode. Also, John McCain wins the presidential election, Paul Giamatti is the world’s sexiest man, and the devil needs a sweater. Let’s see how FOX wrings results out this week — Which 4 dorks will go home!?!?! Oh, and why the @#%* is Archuleta crying!!?!?!?!
A portrait in child labor exploits.
Ryan Douchefest opens AI in front of the 19 wonderfully talented kids (and Michael Johns) on an ominously dark stage, spewing some dramatic crap out of his attention-whore mouth about the competition being “fierce”, the eliminations being “inevitable”, and the drama being “real”.
“…as real as my contrived masculinity. Manwich, brah?”
EDITORIAL NOTE: AI results should be shown between programs, like the lottery. Just sayin’.
Those opening title sequences have GOT to go. It’s like I’m watching fucking Tron or something.
Panel introductions are always fun, because, like awards shows, we get to see what people of prominence are wearing. Randy Jackson is no stranger to looking like a friggin’ tool, but his shirt in this tale is an abomination to reasons the sewing machine were invented.
I wasn’t feelin’ the shirt, dawg; Dawg, your shirt is pitchy, dawg.
That looks like the book cover I got at Staples for my sociology book.
Paula is looking really hot as of late. That’s me being ttly srs.
HugoStop wants to be your cold-hearted snake.
As expected, Simon looks like that guy at a funeral who can’t afford a suit.
Douchefest kills more time by asking Randy why AI takes on themes for each episode. Randy, speaking on behalf of the panel, thinks that songwriting of yesteryear was way better and creates a challenge, standard and benchmark for today’s singers.
But in Jackson vernacular, it came out, like, “Dawg, songs were, like, and I think I can speak for everyone here, but like the songs were better dawg. Dawg dawg dawg.”
There has yet to be a 1910s themed episode. Scott Joplin, anyone?
The conversation cannot be saved by even the chattiest of chatsters like Douchefest, so he brings up a weird demeanor trait Simon’s adopted as of late.
For whatever reason, Simon’s picked up this habit of using his thumb as a resting spot without explanation, but I think he wants it to be the new chin-on-palm.
Here’s another shot:
Le Deux on ze Nanu Nanu
Randy even interjected, in what might be the pinnacle in his comic potential.
Simon busts an “OH SNAP, HE DIDN’T JUST SAY DAT!!!” moment when he tells Douchefest that his half-moose is a code, which he’d explain, except that he can’t accompany it without “another gesture I’d much rather show you.”
THAT MEANS HIS MIDDLE FINGER. SIMON COWELL, EVERYONE.
It’s a shame nothing rhymes with “radar.”
It really is.
Oh gawd, it’s HAPPY FANTASTIC SUPER GROUP SONG TIME. I don’t know what the song is, but it really doesn’t matter because everyone knows that 20 people singing in unison sounds like post-puberty Kidz Bop. Michael Johns is the first to sing in his trite excuse for a voice.
Because I’m telepathic (and a genius), I could actually read some of the minds of the contestants midsong. I know, I’m awesome.
“Every musician in the world hates me. Also, my ‘brows are lookin’ BANGIN’ tonight. Oh shit, I forgot to renew my AARP subscription.”
“A TUXEDO SHIRT! Oh man, wait’ll America gets a load of this original doohickey! Where did I leave my child?”
“I WILL DOMINATE THE WORLD WITH MY FAUX HUMILITY! CULT OF PERSONALITY! CULT OF PERSONALITY! CULT OF PERSONALITY!!!!!!!!!!”
“God, I look like a reject from ‘The L Word.’ “
“I SANG CHICAGO LAST NIGHT?! CHICAGO!?!!!?!?!“
“Stripes were a bad idea.”
“Man, I can’t believe they actually gave me the wardrobe from Webster!!!”
“My farts can sing better than this competition.”
“I’m a self-absorbed hack.”
This medley from hell seems like it’s never going to end. SAT Prep time, folks.
Randy’s Shirt : fashion :: AI group medley’s : music
Moving on –
That McDonalds commercial with the little breakdancing at the table, to much of his family’s dismay, is freakin’ awesome. High five, cool kid!
Oh man, PART ONE OF FOUR OF THE RESULTS!
And like sand through the hour glass…
Douchefest tells Chikezie-my-nizzie to sit down. Whew!
Then Douchefest tells Castro there’s bad news.
Jar Jar Binks, everyone.
…BECAUSE HE’S GONNA HAVE TO PUT UP WITH SEACREST’S BULLSHIT FOR ANOTHER WEEK!!! SAFE!
Two left, Jason and Noriega, like Aaron Burr and Alexander Hamilton in a game of Battleship.
Noriega looks like he’s waiting on medical results or something, and Yeager totally knows he sucks balls in comparison to the token gay diva.
JASON, YOU IS OUT. Seacrest tries to console the crybaby, but that won’t do. Luckily for Jason’s dignity, he actually sang better than he did two nights prior. Ahh, fight or flight.
Be well, poor man’s Michael Buble.
PART TWO OF THIS FOUR-PART EPIC TALE OF ELIMINATIONS:
Asia’h got through, despite having the stupidest spelling for a name in the history of names.
Brooke, despite taking a risk by playing amateur coffee shopish guitar and a song by CARLY SIMON, got through, too.
Amanda Over-does-it stays; Alexandrea, your 15 minutes end here.
Randy disagrees and confirms poor song choice. Paula says it’s the beginning of her career (and I’m the next Stone Phillips).
Through Alexandrea’s final song, Archuleta was BAWLIN’. I wonder she popped his cherry or something. Anyway, it was kinda sad to see the most likable character on television cry, for when Archuleta cries, America cries.
Lights down, one more elimination:
The not-unusual-to-be-loved-by-anyone suspects.
Let’s cut the filler — in a showdown between Kady “I really desire to be Britney Spears” Malloy and Alaina, Douchefest lets Alaina know she’s out.
…and in front of 30 million+ viewers, breaks down and exclaims under heaps of tears, “I… CAN’T SING!!!” It was purty sad.
Alaina Whitaker: Not facin’ the music.
After the remaining contestants console Alaina, telling her to sing all the while quietly reveling in celebratory ecstasy, she actually pulls the mic and reaffirms the fact that this chick truly cannot sing.
Hopelessly devoted to autotune.
After coming back from break, Douchefest says that there are a couple items of AI news:
1. NEW OPENING TITLE SEQUENCES
2. NEW STAGE
3. ‘IDOL GIVES BACK’ COMES BACK!!!
Again, it will be a star studded event with a bunch of performances and reasons to not feel bad about participating in philanthropy. This year, I hope to see a digital rendition of Cole Porter sing with Kid Rock.
With one more elimination to go, it’s quickly down to the doo-wop acapella guy and the “rocker” guy with long hair.
OMG IT’S PATRICK DEMPSEY AND BRET MICHAELS!!!!!!!
Alas, Luke stays and Robbie’s going home, hopefully to a really high-end cover band.
I’M HOT BLOODED, I’M HOT… blooded… *sniff*