American Idol: The Wrong Rectum!

****Our next gasm writer to take AI audition duty is the lovely and talented Mona. Enjoy!

Hey all, Please welcome ME, MONAMONZANO, taking you on a magic tour bus through AMERICAN IDOL AUDITIONS: SAN FRANCISCO. Instead of a lot of LSD and other assorted hallucenogens, it’s voices. Good voices, bad voices. All brought to you by DELICIOUS, DELICIOUS COCA COLA.

Giving the gift of song.

One time I was visiting San Francisco with my Dad and I had bad clam chowder at Fisherman’s Wharf. I had the runs the rest of my trip there. Undoubtedly, this post will not go into the details of that trip.

Ah, San Francisco. Home of Katherine McPhee, who lost her record label. And William Hung, who has about five holiday record label deals. San Francisco! Another thing to note in the beginning of the show- In San Francisco, American Idol had it’s first marriage proposal, in line for auditions. God, this reeks of class. Hey, can somebody send my boyfriend a telegram? It should say something along the lines of, “Consider yourself dumped. My real love is in line waiting to make a royal asswipe of himself and in the debris of his embarrassment, I want him to take me as his wife.” I mean, I’m no poet, but something like that.

A Lifetime of Ass-wipery.

Oh, and what would Idol be without your bona-fide hood rat? By hood rat I mean she looks a lot like that pre-pubescent singer JoJo and….another 10 year old with a poorly made dress?

The Gauze is from Puerto Rico, too.

She claims she’s a full time actor, singer, songwriter, pizza crust eater, barista, debt counselor, model, director, lipstick putter-on-er, milkman and babymaker. Wow, that’s a lot, Tatiana. How do you keep yourself looking so dreamy?

Baby Blood.

And, apparently, her friend, who is “one of the world’s most powerful psychics.” Really? Hmm…Oh wait, talk more about how much good you can do through winning American Idol. Those eyes….that infectious laugh…those dreams!

For more information, call Wilson Scott “Casting.”

Oh, so this girl sashays into the Judges’ room and gives them a “gift,” also known as a C list Press Kit, DVD and CD. Thanks, Lady. Now I have something to recycle, a coaster and another coaster. So she sings some Aretha, and the judges are….

…Flummoxed by all that Gauze?

Simon says she should never have done the song she did, or come out of her mothers’ womb. I agree. Randy? Oh, he’s finishing off a pork cutlet, he can’t talk. Other female judge besides Paula? Yes, another dress comment. Tatiana gets to go to Hollywood despite- and because- of being fucking apeshit. Awesome. She keeps bitching about being “the best vocalist in the room,” and laughing, always laughing….

Thanks for burning my eardrums, Editors.

After the break, we hear more glorious renditions of aboriginal sounds from a firecrotch….

Don’t know this song? It’s a beat version of…wait, I forget.

Then, a monster auditions. Wait, sorry, an entrepreneur. It’s ALWAYS a good thing when the judges notice your jacket right off the bat. I feel like I’m stuck in a less hot version of “Planet of the Apes.”

Sing, Dr. Zeus.

Meanwhile, I feel like he’s either going to strangle me, fuck me, or eat a Banana. Randy says no, that it was “over the top tortured.” I love how Dr. Zeus goes “I can do subtle,” and Randy says “no.” and takes out his taser that he keeps for emergencies. So, Dr. Zeus is a no go. Sorry, man. Maybe if man ever crashes down on your planet, you can sing the national anthem. It’s earth, Y’all! IT’S EARTH!

And, I’m a nerd.

Anyhoo, Jesus is next, with his gigantic family in tow. Man, this guy is livin’ the stereotype, isn’t he. Is that racist? I’m not sure. Paula says no but then that other female judge that isn’t Paula tells him to bring his kids in and, of course, heartstrings get tugged…

Please, we are so hungry.

And this guy gets to go to hollywood? Are you for real? I thought Sasquatch was better, but whatever. I just have three Ph.D.’s in musicology.

Oh, this next one’s a gem:

Big voice, big attitude.

God, this guy has a stage presence like a can of frozen peas.

Akilah, whom I can only presume wandered off of the streets of San Francisco because the audition seems “warm,” has a whole friggin’ folder full of health-class style diagrams that are aptly crumpled and smell like feces.

Ryan Seacrest has a semi

And then she enters the judges’ room. Ohhh!

Internet Trained, Goodwill Dressed.

She sings one of her songs, “make sweet love to you.” It sucks, and then she gets a little…well, let’s keep this in homeless-person terms: Stank-ugly.

Simon, where’s your taser?

She sings “Natural Woman,” or whatever that song is called that they use during Bic Commercials. Listen, I got my Ph.D. in song lyric-ery a while, okay? I’m rusty.

Someone in this room smells like feces.

Then, Ms. Homeless pulled the “I wanna sing the song over because it came from the wrong rectum.” Which is wrong in soo many ways. Dirty wrong. “I wanna make sweet love to you” wrong. Then she insults all of the judges because she was “hyper to meet celebrities.” I LOVE IT!

Something smells like feces.

Then, the inevitable “good people” montage. Sorry, the “good and mildly attractive people who are not homeless and didn’t make rectum references” montage.

Let’s bring out Annie Murdoch to break the streak, shall we? She looks like someone’s mom. Don’t they have age limits on American Idol Contestants anymore?

A choker from Spencer Gifts and some heavy-handed brown eyeliner will give me that “touch-o-youth.”

She doesn’t, um, come to the audition prepared, really…in that she seems to spend five minutes choosing a song. Thanks, editors! Then she sounds like…well, a housewife in heat when she sings “summertime.” The female judge that isn’t Paula Abdul almost chokes on her Coca Cola. MMM.. DELICIOUS COCA COLA.

Keep drinking our proud sponsor.

Adam Lambert gets a full on Childhood montage, so I guess I’m going to assume he’s good. Well, he’s certainly douchey enough for it, right?

blarf.

Ugh, he sounds so terrible in that way that…every pop singer sounds terrible. I think SOMEONE’S GOING TO HOLLYWOOD.

Cara and Simon get into a tiff about being theatrical, or something. Jeez. Someone give some of these judges their hormone shots, or something. And Viva La Vida plays triumphantly while Adam Lambert gets to go to hollywood, aka back where he came from. Yawn!

And now, our sob story: Kai Klemento, the 26 year old who takes care of his mom because she has a seizure disorder. Awww…man, I think he might be a good singer, with all this setup. Otherwise, that’d just be cruel, right? And, he’s actually sort of hot. though he looks like he pins his hair back or rubber bands it or something. Mmmm…Hey Kai, I’ll take care of “your mom.” That is, if “your mom” doesn’t actually mean “your mom” but might mean something sexier like “your penis.” Yep, I’m a modern poet.

Kai: Putting Simon’s butt cut to shame.

Wow, hot and a good singer! And the judges quibble… Yawn. How about we just have Kai take off his shirt and call it a day. Shall we?

No, we can’t. Oh, and he calls his mom “Mombo.” Is that…something ethnic that I don’t know about? Who cares? NEXT, MILWAUKEE, WISCONSIN. Kidding! Next broadcast will be held in my basement. Well, close enough. KENTUCKY!