American Idol: The Feat of the Fetus

Last week on American Idol, Paula had me rolling on the floor until I was bruised on the inside and out. Goddamit, it was worth it.

And I am telling you I’m not goin, bitch!

Welcome to the Top Twenty. Let’s all cross our fingers and hope tonight won’t be as painful as last week. Tink is lowered from the ceiling with his usual “please give me a fucking break I have like ten jobs and need a nap” face, but I can’t hear what he’s saying because I am confused. Did he get bigger? Hmmm. Must be that skinny tie. Nice work. It’s like when fat dudes wear the JWahl beard to try and make it look like they have a jawline instead of just one giant face. Glad I got that off my chest. Let’s get the show on the road, shall we?

Who’s my big boy?

He introduces the ten boys and wow, they’re all either totally gay looking (which I don’t have a problem with. I’ve slept with lots of gay people) or they look dirty. Tink introduces the judges. Randy is “well known”, Paula has “a hit song” (LOL. Favorite TV moment of the year), and Simon is “the king of all media”. Damn, Howard. Shouldn’t have left FM.

Since Randy has apparently decided to sexually harass the boys every chance he gets, he suggests if they wanna stay this week they better bring it hard. Paula concurs and reminds Tink that the boys will look a helluva lot better tonight, since we are all still left with the plain wrong taste of her “hit song” in our mouths from last week. A boiling lobster would sound like Maria Callas after that. Simon sticks with his usual “don’t suck”. From your lips to God’s ears, tiger.

How can tonight not be an improvement over last week? After all, the contestants aren’t stuck with lame ass 60′s music that’s been raped and pillaged by cereal commercials for almost five decades. Now they get to sing lame ass 70′s music that’s been raped and pillaged by wedding bands and dinner cruises for the past four or so decades. Phew.

Michael Johns is up first. At first, I thought this guy was gonna be boring, but then he tells us that we might not guess it, but he’s a jock. He plays tennis. Uhhh. Are tennis players considered jocks? Because the jocks I know call tennis players the f word. He goes on and on about tennis in his uninterested monotone and….

Remember the boring brother from Wings? Me neither. Next!

When I wake up my face is covered in bleu cheese dressing (what? A guy can’t try to eat a salad?) and he’s in the middle of “Go Your Own Way.” At first it sounds really good, but after a minute or so he starts reminding me of the time my little sister was in the bathroom screaming “Moooom! There’s no toilet paper in here! Mooooooom! Moooooooom! Mooooooooom!” I shouted the same thing at Johns that I shouted at my sister. SHUT UP YOU SOULLESS WHORE!

Randy’s meh about the whole thing, but Paula totally popped a boner. Simon just shrugs and whatevs, saying it was his worst performance so far. Michael stands by his song choice, telling Tink that it’s always been his dream to sing a Fleetwood Mac song. Yay, dream achieved. Now go away.

Suddenly I am filled with a rush of emotions and tears are squeezing out off my eyes all over my TV screen. It really touches me to know that Milli and Vanilli made a love child before everything went so wrong.

I dedicate this bad hair day to you, dads.

Jason Castro’s a goofball. He doesn’t like doing interviews and needs multiple takes to answer questions like “what would people be surprised to learn about you?” and “what’s your favorite color and why?” and “how the f did Spanx win this bitch last year?” His answer for everything is “I dunnnoooow! I hate talking!” Then he makes silly faces and poses like a little girl who refuses to wash her hair.

Dios Miiiio!

He chooses a Bee Gees song, which is kinda awesome. It’s “I Just Want To Be Your Everything”, which kinda isn’t. He plays the guitar well, and sings ok until he has to belt. Then he just kills it. And not in a good way. It hurts. This is the part of open mic night where I smile for two seconds, ask my friends if he’s a girl, and then go outside to chain smoke while he does what he needs to do before the lesbian with the naked finger puppets comes on.

Randy gives another “meh. Karaoke”, to which Paula responds “I don’t think it was as bad as you heard it, Randy. LOL. The audience cheers and screams, because they’re a bunch of trained seals and didn’t even listen long enough to hear that she just slammed him. She follows up with a “he’s cute”, which is just downright RUDE. Then she gets serious and starts talking about his musical interpretation. I love the fact that Paula is suddenly trying to talk like she’s on Meet the Press because some retard producer put her back on the radio for a couple months. It’s like when my friend Alex took a week of psychology courses and started diagnosing everyone she met with bipolarism.

Simon hated it so much he just gives it a half a nannynannybooboo and moves on.

Bullwinkle chopped one of his ears off listening to that drivel.

One thing I really like about this kid is that his mom is Marie Osmand. How many goddamn kids does that woman have? Slow down, Utah.

That was sweet of Fran Drescher to loan Marie her favorite jacket.

Luke Menard tells us something we don’t know about him. He’s from an a cappella group. HAHA. What more can I say?

Cojo and the Crackers

His band is called Take 6 and they’re actually pretty popular. I sort of fell in love with them back in the nineties when Spike Lee produced a special called “Do It A Cappella”. Wait. Those were black guys. WTF? Isn’t forming a singing group and naming it after another singing group illegal? This is actually good news, as I no longer feel bad about asking my friends to call me Stevie Knicks.

Luke is hot, and he sings “Killer Queen” like he means it. I respect the fact that he openly uses spirit fingers and sings every song like the Disney cartoon version of Aladdin. He reminds me of Orlando Bloom, but not dead eyed. As his painful nasal wail attacks my ears, I realize how shallow a man I really am, because I’m totally in love with his dorky ass.

Who’s got spirit?

Randy says he should do musicals, Paula says guys like Luke are the reason she’s always in trouble for groping youngsters, and Simon says that the problem with the song choice was that Freddie Mercury had personality and charisma, which Luke doesn’t. I was waiting for him to follow that up with “…but I’d totally do you” but he never did. I boo along with the audience for that reason alone. Who needs talent and charisma when you look like that? Tink agrees, patting Luke on the shoulder a little bit too much and referring to him as Dawson’s Creek. James VanDerGeek wishes.

Simon has called Robbie phoney boloney, and Tink asks how he feels about that. Robbie says that there are many different layers to rock and Simon is only focused in on one. Uh…keep tellin yourself that, Bucky. He follows up this horse poo with a rebellious “Get used to it!” Then Tink poops his pants.

Oh snap no he di’nt!

Robbie tells us that America would be surprised to learn that he drag races cars. A white trash guy from Florida is into drag racing? NOooooo! Don’t tell me he has bad dental hygiene, too! If any of you are reading this aloud to anyone from Florida, tell them I’m only kidding. I kinda like Robbie because his head is bigger than a beach ball and it makes me smile.

Earthlings, I have come to bring you many layered rock.

We are getting a lot more shots of the band this season, and it’s really funny. The drummer in particular is ridiculous. He does a Stevie Wonder with seizures impression that’s so real his headphones fly off.

If this layer is off the beat, blame this bozo.

Robbie sings “Hot Blooded” which is the lamest song choice so far, and that’s saying something. He does have a really strong voice though. He’s on key and consistent, but he sounds like a not as good Daughtry. Combined with the fat Bucky look, he’s in trouble. Makeover!

Randy says that he isn’t rock enough, and Paula gives him some bs about knowing who you are on the inside. She suggests that before he goes onstage, he should quiet himself with quaaludes and ten managers blowing smoke up his ass chanting “It’s not over yet, hon. Not over yet. Not over yet…”

Bucky doesn’t understand why he has to keep trying to prove that he’s rock n’ roll. If you have to ask, there’s not much hope for ya. Maybe you can get someone to pay you to put their logo on your giant helmet while you race your little green heap. Simon tells him not to get so defensive and that his vocal was actually pretty decent tonight. Aw! What a sweetie.

Maury Povich would eat your ass up, girl.

So I think Danny Noriega resembles a young Connie Chung, but I know that you all decided last week that he shall be christened Hanna Mantana, which I must say is just beautiful. The name is so perfect that I thought surely someone else has used it. It’s just too good. Thanks to Google, I found what instantly became my favorite YouTube video of all time.

Now that’s entertainment.

As Mantana (ours, not the one from YouTube) lisps (seriously I think he’s exaggerating it on purpose), growls, and preens his way through a severely off key version of a Karen Carpenter song, I scream like the real Mantana. I can see this kid standing on his bed and trying to imitate his idol’s slow, meaningful vibrato into a hairbrush, and I cringe. I’m sure it was cute when he was five, but it’s just confounding now. If Karen Carpenter was here she’d barf.

I’m sorry, but I just can’t take it. I make it to “baby baby baby baby oh baby” and I have to FF. I just have one question. Nigel, are you fucking with us? Or are you fucking with him? Someone’s getting fucked, and I have a feeling it’s Mantana. He just screams bottom. Randy and Paula get all serious faced and compliment him without smirks on their faces, like that didn’t sound like babies getting punched in the face. Even Simon is nice, saying that it wasn’t as much of a nightmare as last week and Mantana’s gorgeous on camera. Then he tells him to stop bobbing his head like he’s on the casting couch and…I am really uncomfortable right now.

David Hernandez is up next with “Papa Was a Rolling Stone.” Love the song, and his vocals are by far the best so far tonight despite a couple clunkers, but there are many reasons I just can’t ever like this guy. I will list them below.

The many faces of Hernandez

Randy and Paula pee with glee and Simon calls it the best vocal of the night and says that it’s refreshing to have a contestant that listens to criticism and gets better instead of sulking around like a big pussy. I’m happy for him, because he kicked butt, although no one tells him to botox his entire face, which is disappointing.

What we don’t know about Matt Yeager is that he’s self taught on three instruments and in his own opinion, he’s awesome. What we do know about Jason Yeager is that he chooses songs that are out of his range and sings like he was paid twenty bucks to work a Bar Mitzvah. The audience stands while he sings “Long Train Runnin”, but they don’t move at all. LOL.

Randy puts his head in his hands and Paula says that “it’s a song without many notes in it”. He has a “real nice voice” and he should pick “singer songs”. Like “Opposites Attract”. Simon hated it. Matt gives Nigel one last visual plead, but it’s not looking too good for him.

Subtle, self trainer.

This guy is an ass. He tells Tink that they’re all killer singers this year, so it’s gonna basically come down to song choice. Uhhh. No you’re not, and don’t blame the Doobie Brothers for your failure. Kinda hating him. He begs and pleads while simultaneously stressing that’s he’s got a really wide range and did his best to dance around and make his performance enjoyable. Simon says he needs Oscar music to play him off because his speech is never ending. LOL, Cowell.

Something we didn’t know about Chikezie is that he played Isaac on The Love Boat.

Chik has a great voice and a great personality and does Donny Hathaway proud. He’s definitely one of the best in this bunch vocally, but he doesn’t have much in the originality department. Randy is psyched he didn’t suck this time, and Paula starts babbling on about “the story” again. Someone please put some tape on her mouth.

Simon thought it was a million times better, and after almost calling him Jacuzzi again, vows to call him Chi from now on. Chik says that he let Simon get to him last week and that was his only regret. When confronted with the red suit debacle, Chik says that he would wear it again, but not on TV. Only tacky British assholes wear the same thing twice on TV. The audience goes nuts, and Simon looks like he has fallen in love.

Something we don’t know about David Cook? He loves crossword puzzles. Fascinating.

We also know that he protects his “instrument” with ridonk scarves and looks like a cross between Elton John and Joan Cusak.

David sings “Alright Now” and he sounds like the version on the radio. When you’re driving through a tunnel. YAWN. He plays the guitar and this guy does nothing for me. All I can think as he sings is that he looks like he just had root canals on both sides of his face.

Randy says he’s the “real” rocker of the season, and Paula agrees. These two have gone on endlessly about songs with no range, but this is somehow different. Simon says it was decent but he’s boring and has no charisma. David doesn’t give a crap what Simon thinks. He wants the votes. Simon calls bs and sticks with his opinion. You’re boring. Simon gets pissy that David got pissy and then everyone’s all pissy and Tink says David didn’t mean to be pissy and…FF. PS, David’s an egotistical prick.

You’ve got the death stare down, now just be NOT LAME.

When Tink announces that the fetus is coming up next, a bunch of tweens start screeching their heads off and Elton Cusak looks like he would start them on fire if he was close enough. Best part of the show.

What we don’t know about the fetus is that when he was just coming out of the womb, he started stalking American Idol finalists. He finally got to meet Kelly and Justin in a hotel lobby and sang “I’m Not Going” (LOL), and he has kept Guarini’s cell phone number in his left butt cheek pocket ever since.

To Catch A Predator: Dreamgirls Style

Alright. This kid has me majorly confused. He’s adorable, he seems genuinely nice, and he’s an amazing singer. Why don’t I hate his ass? If you can come on American Idol and only get me to mention that you look like you’re three years old, you are a seriously talented individual. He sings “Imagine” and blows every other guy away. I squeeze out real live tears for the first time since last month when my dog licked my nose and I was forced to smell her dead person breath for more than five seconds. The judges of course fall all over themselves.

Randy says that it’s one of the best vocals in AI history, Paula says she wants to squeeze his tiny head off (which I think she means as a compliment), and Simon says that so far this season, there are nineteen ass suckers and one amazing baby. Agreed. Go fetus!

So tonight the girls are up. Will they redeem themselves or will T.Vo be calling me and threatening suicide? I guess we’ll find out tomorrow! Thanks for being here, gasmii! LOVE

I’ve got nothing. This kid is killing me.