American Idol: Results Show

I was seriously hoping this would be the week that Simon would rip off his shirt, climb up on stage, makeout with Gaycrest, then cover his hairy moobs with baby oil and work a pole to the tune of “Pour Some Sugar On Me.”  To my dismay, this did not occur.  Want to find out what happened anyway?  Come on in, yo.

What’s up, tricks?  I’m filling in for Flipit this episode, who is spending the week whoring around sunning himself in some whorish exotic locale.  Bitch.  I told him I would only do it if he would let me raid his high heel collection, and he agreed, so I’m in and you’re stuck with me.  Sorry dudes.  Smooches.

To catch up on things, I hate Kara.  With the strength of a thousand small sacked dudes on World’s Strongest Man.  She makes me so fucking stabby…I have to restrain myself from taking a butter knife to my couch while watching this shit, seriously.  Therefore, she is known as BITCH.  Seacrest=Gaycrest.  Duh.  Simon is Simon, Randy is Randy, and I haven’t thought of anything for Ellen yet, other than luckiest dyke in the world, because Portia is a HOT piece of ass.  I’m strictly dickly and I’d give it up to her.  

So I was around for a couple of the audition shows, and other than what I read in Flipit’s recaps and see on Twitter, I really have no clue what’s been going on this season.  It seems, and correct me if I’m wrong, that this season is very meh-is anyone even proving themselves to be close to winner material?  I don’t think so.    But that’s okay, because we’re kicking off one of the top 12 whether I care or not, so whee!!!!

We are treated to an opening montage of people winning their golden tickets, actually getting compliments from the judges, and being lauded for their exceptional asshatian skills to the tune of “All I Have To Do Is Dream” by the Everly Brothers.  Can I dream that this lame shit is over already?  No?  Damn.  Okay, hold on a minute, let me take another xanax.  Okay, continue.

Gaycrest welcomes us in true Tink fashion, which would be gay.  Apparently AI has an irish lighting producer, and seeing how this took place on St. Patrick’s Day, prompts them to turn on all the green strobe lights, play an Irish jig, and put up some “luck of the irish” graphic that an Art Institute dropout came up with.  And there is 30 seconds of my life I’ll never get back.

He introduces us to the judges (good thing that’s necessary) and here’s my question…ok, so Simon and Ellen hate each other.  I get that.  I could have told you that was going to happen when they announced Ellen was coming on the show.  So why in the hell is BITCH acting like this is fifth grade and she needs to sit on Simon’s lap to make it obvious she’s on his side? What the fuck did Ellen ever do to her except show her how not as good she’s going to look at fifty?  Stab. stab. stab!!!!!

Then Simon feels the need to mark his territory and confront Gaycrest about his supposed “aggressive” behavior on the performance show.  I did not see this, so I have no clue what he’s talking about, but I have a feeling what he’s really referring to was after the show, in the dressing room, when Gaycrest insisted on switching things up and taking the top role instead of the bottom.  Simon doesn’t like being the bitch.  Anyhoo, they “wittily” banter back and forth, tra la la.  It was as uncomfortable as a wool thong that is a size too small.

This is the week the judges save is introduced-meaning, if the judges unanimously agree that they do not agree with Fox’s America’s decision, they can use a one time save and kick off someone else instead.

As if I wasn’t already being offended enough tonight, David Cock, winner from a couple of years ago, comes out to murder a cover of the Rolling Stones’ “Jumping Jack Flash.”  Love the song, am ambivalent about David Cock, but this is a really bad cover.  He sounds like Lenny Kravitz without the sexy and the finesse.  Yuck.

Then he gets a minute to shill his soon to be released album, they’re in the writing process, he’s super excited about it, he’s so stoked to get it out for his fans.  Yeah, honey, you might as well get the flop over with.  Actually, I think he’s got a pretty solid cougar fanbase, so he might do okay.   Rawr.

Another stupid ass Ford promotion by the contestants. They’re driving around in multicolored roller skate looking cars, paintballing each other. Wow. What. Rebels.  Do you think this shit actually helps them sell cars?  Does anyone in the viewing audience actually watch that and be like, wow, that rampant commercialism and cheesy bad script reading really makes me want to go buy a Ford!  Nevermind that it has a decades old reputation of being a really, really unreliable and shitty car, if these soon to be hasbeens say it’s great, I have to have one!  (if you have done this, please do the world a favor and go shoot yourself now.  Thanks.)

Turns out these pieces of shit are Fiestas! Do you remember the first incarnation of those death traps? A few of the singers got to go design their own graphics for a Fiesta. Still lame. Visit americanidol dot com slash douchebag to find out how you can win your own shitbox.

They’ve got the three stools out for the ones who were the worst at sucking off Simon.

Paige is first, she sang “Honky Tonk Women.” She was sick last night, or at least, that was her excuse for sucking so badly. She is in the bottom three.

Lee is up next. He sang “Beast of Burden.” I cannot believe the Stones allowed these college dropouts to slaughter their classic songs. Even more reason to hate this glorified karaoke show. The judges liked his vocal and think he’s improving, but thought the song choice was safe and performance was meh. He promises to be a good boy and take it all off if he’s allowed to stay. And with the promise of nudity, he finds out that he is safe.

Siobhan, Miss Quirky, is the next to be led to slaughter. She chose “Paint It Black,” which makes me even more glad I didn’t watch the performance show. That is my favorite song OF ALL TIME and it would have broken my heart to see it absolutely trashed by some future singing waitress. She was compared to Adam Lambert and Snooki….gee, that’s a confidence booster. After the nationwide vote, Siobhan lives to quirk another week.

Aaron Kelly, who appears to be about as old as my stretch marks (which means not very old! assholes.) is up. He sang “Angie,” which was enjoyed by the judges, who compared him to Rascal Flatts and Justin Timberlake. Um, maybe femininity, but I don’t see any other comparison. Anyhoo, you know they like fems on this show, cause he’s safe.

Andrew and Tim are then asked to stand up together. Woot! Threesome. Andrew sang “Gimme Shelter” without his guitar, and the judges approved. Tim, who has skated by so far on his superior bone structure, sang a reggae version of “Under My Thumb.” Yeah, even without seeing that, I can tell you that sucked. BITCH thinks they both sucked. And let me tell you, she would know a thing or two about sucking. Andrew’s safe, Tim gets to go sit on a jelly dong.

After a commercial break, we are tortured with a performance by some generic blonde pop star named Orianthi. I’d never heard of her before. I have heard the song before, only because it’s on the radio every five seconds. I actually kind of like the song, but let me tell you, the over produced version sounds much better than her voice live. She’s like Hilary Duff without the cute and the blowjob skills. She can play guitar though, and she has what sounds like an Australian accent, so maybe she’s a little redeemable. Gaycrest attempts to chat with her after her performance, and bitch can’t give an interview to save her life. Stick to the guitar and the shrimp on the barbie, sweetie.

Back to the firing squad. Dim the lights, here we go with the soul crushing. Didi is next, she sang “Play With Fire.” The judges loved her intensity, and the way she went darker with her performance. She rambles about being emotional because she saw her mom before she went on stage, but it must have worked for her cause she’s safe. Whee!

Crystal Hempsox is up next, and I love this trustafarian bitch. (Trustafarian-all the kids that live in Boulder, CO, have trust funds and mommy and daddy’s money but live like a poor dirty hippie) She performed “You Can’t Always Get What You Want” and apparently the judges had said she has this competition in the bag. She humbly explains that away, and I kind of love her. I love me a good dirty hippie. Hempsox is safe, duh.

Katie’s turn. She sang “Wild Horses,” and while Gaycrest tells us the judges liked it, I can just imagine it was awful. I think Mick is the only person on the planet that can make that song sound good. Gaycrest asks BITCH to clarify her comments that Katie could win this thing, and BITCH rambles nonsensically, basically just to hear herself talk. Simon actually disagrees with the hag, and I heart Ellen. That is all. Katie is safe, however.

Big Mike’s up, and I love this dude. We all know I love me a big hunk of man, and he’s kinda yummy. I bet five years and ten pounds of weed ago, all that chub was muscle and delish. Even chub’s okay, though, although I am jealous he’s got bigger boobies than me. No dildo in the butt for him-Mike’s safe.

Casey and Lacey are asked to stand up next. Casey is so fucking vanilla I can’t even be ambivalent about him, I have to hate that level of mediocrity. Vanilla is safe, and Screechy gets the last seat, which is not fair because her hair and makeup is rad.

Gaycrest asks Ellen if anyone is worth using the save tonight, and she is too nice to really answer. Love her, but she needs to stop being so damn DeGenerous and just grow a pair. I bet Portia would appreciate it too. Gaycrest decides he wants one of the dildo stools for himself, and sends Tim back to safety, leaving Screechy Brown and Paige battling for the train back to obscurity.

Another damn performance, and now I’m really pissed off. Talk about stabby. Ke$ha is here to perform, and are you kidding me? It looks like Gaycrest came sparkly jizz all over her face, and she’s a hot drunken mess screaming some dirty version of a Dr. Seuss rhyme over a track. To confirm her lack of talent, she has the douches from 3Oh3 guesting on this song. She is so bad, absolutely zero talent, zero class, and she stole my name. (HappyHousewife’s real name is Kisha, and I’m the only white girl who can have that name. Whore.)

One more commercial, then we find out who’s heading back to the trailer park and who gets to floss their teeth with Simon’s chest hair for one more week.

The lucky flosser is……Paige! Which means Screechy Brown is singing for the save. Alas, her head skills screeching was not good enough, and she is going home after getting one last train run on her by the top six dudes. And with that, I’m out, thankfully for you guys! I bet after this pile of crap you’ll be extra excited to read Flipit’s caps next week! I’ll be back with Dancing with the F-Listers next week as well!!!

Love and Bubbles,
HappyHousewife