American Idol: Wh-Orlando Auditions

Disclaimer: As far as I know, no whores were harmed in the filming of these auditions. But with a word play like that, how could I resist?

What’s up, lovies???!!! I’m fresh off a round of White Russians (“Oh, the usual. I bowl. Drive around. The occasional acid flashback.”) and am ready to do this shit. Sidenote…want my recipe for the perfect White Russian? 3 oz. Kahlua, 3 oz. Vanilla Smirnoff Vodka, 2 oz. Half and Half. Shake with ice in martini shaker, pour over ice. You can thank me after your hangover wears off in the morning.

Anyhoo, oh yes, American Idol auditions. I stopped watching American Idol when it stopped being original (when was that, after season #2?) but still tuned in for the auditions until even those lost their originality (after about season #5.) In fact, I can probably even guess what’s going to happen tonight…lots of people will suck, fewer people will be good, a couple blondes will get by on the sole fact that they made Simon’s Spotted Dick hard, and Randy will say ‘dawg’ 4,384 times. The end.

Ok, ok, fine, I knew I wasn’t getting off that easy. You guys better love me for subjecting myself to this shit, that’s all I gotta say.

So, it would seem that they held this round of auditions in Orlando the same day as the shuttle launch in Cape Canaveral. Gee, I have two choices. Go watch American history be made, or go try out for the lamest reality show with American in the title. Which shall I choose?

“Welcome to Orlando. They say it’s the place where dreams come true,” pontificates Sir Gaycrest as he opens the show.

As 10,000 (yes, a 1 with FOUR zeros after it!!!) hopefuls wait for their turn to impress the judges, Sir Gaycrest informs us that he, Randy, and Simon were late due to partying it up the night before in Miami. The obvious joke would be about a bathhouse or something like that, but in all actuality, I think Gaycrest is straight. Metro yes, but gay, no. And, I guarantee he pulls more ass than a donkey farmer. Same with Simon and Randy. Money and power are the best aphrodisiacs I’ve ever experienced.

Luckily for the complete fools wonderful singers waiting outside, Kara (who does not inspire me to come up with a better nickname for her than BITCH) and the guest judge of the week, Kristin Chenoweth, are on time and perky as shit, unfortch.

On one hand, Kristin C. at least has the qualifications to be a judge. Broadway star, Tony and Emmy Winner, can sing her little ass off, and did I mention she was on Glee? However, as much as the media and my friends want me to love her, and she’s all tiny and cute and pocket sized, something just doesn’t do it for me. Maybe because she looks like she got pulled a little too tight at her last nip and tuck or that her skin probably feels like leather from too much fake and baking? I don’t know. But I’ll at least give her a chance, unlike BITCH.

B-Bitch
I-I hate because she’ll never
T-take the
C-crazy crown from Paula who was way better so
H-ho, shut the eff up and sit down.

(It was a stretch, I know. I blame the Vanilla Smirnoff.)

First dude (and I use that term lightly here) is one sparkly gay superhero named Theo. Apparently this bitch thinks he’s the next Whitney Houston or some shit. They show a montage of him swinging around a sequined cape to the tune of “I Feel Pretty,” and I think that actually sums it all up pretty nicely.

Everyone welcomes him warmly, especially Randy, who I believe to either be in awe or extremely jealous of Theo’s very queer outfit. And lisp. Theo is going to wow us tonight with his rendition of Pat Benetar’s “Heartbreaker.” Fab.

I bet this guy kills it at Wichita’s biggest drag show, but he’s just not enough for it here. He screams really loud has power, but has no range or tone whatsoever. I’m tone deaf, so if I think you have no tone? Ouch. Even Cutie Pie thinks he’s not right for this.

BITCH tries to be all nice nice to him on the way out, telling him he doesn’t need all this but he smells good and he’s just too over the top, and that makes me want to vomit more than the twirling sparkling gay or the half gallon of Kahlua I just finished off. She’s looking over at Cutie Pie with every sentence and is obviously just trying to come off as gracious and a mentor to her. Yuck. BITCH we know what you are. Don’t front, trick.

After getting lost on his way out of the audition room, Theo is awaited by his “assistant” (geez, does everyone, even broke down drag queens, have an assistant these days? I want a fucking assistant! HappyHusband, where is my god damned assistant?) and Gaycrest. Gaycrest kindly peels off Theo’s sequins and wishes him a Happy Birthday, which coincidentally is the next day.

After a much needed drink refill commercial break, we resume to a montage of losers from the morning, including a dude in a chicken costume. Like, bright yellow chicken costume. I mean, it guarantees you’ll at least get five seconds on TV, but what the french is the point if your face is covered up?

BITCH and Cutie Pie are apparently new best friends. I just think it was because Cutie Pie couldn’t take her coke on the plane, and BITCH was kind enough to share. And beggars can’t be bitches. You know we’ve all been there, befriending the girl you hate just because she’s the only one at the party with the good shit. What can you do? But for the show’s sake, they just happen to get along and it’s girl power, and us against the boys and yadda yadda yadda vomit.

Randy was cheering on the new friendship, but I think that was just because he was hoping for a threesome later on. “Yo, dawg, I got an eightball for you if you get naked, dawgs.”

But back to the wannabes. It has definitely been a morning of suckage, which I’m sure is par for the course. But cue the sad music, it is time for a sob story and a good singer. Next up is Seth Rollins, who is a slightly thinner, much cuter version of Ruben Studdard. His sob story is that he is parent to a child with autism. Ok, so I’m no child psychologist (in fact, I can’t even believe I’m allowed to own children) but this kid is not autistic. Spoiled and obnoxious, yes, but autistic, no. Seth loves music and would love to win AI not only because his dream is to do music full time, but because it would afford them to hire a full time nanny get the best care for their son.

Seth has chosen “Someone to Watch Over Me” by Frank Sinatra as his audition song, which definitely shows that he is swinging for the fences here–as he should be–this is his last year to audition because he’s 28, the cutoff age for AI.

And….he’s good. Very good. Has a very rich quality in his voice, and he totally finesses the song, just like Sinatra did. He could use a couple lessons with a pro voice coach, but nothing the show couldn’t take care of. Cutie Pie loves that he “made the song his own” (yawn-do they have a list of these cliches for the judges to choose from?), BITCH wanted him to keep going, Simon and Randy liked him as well for a total of 4 yesses (new word!) and a golden ticket onto Hollywood.

Seth’s fat wife thinks that getting all 4 of the judges approval should give him the confidence that he’s awesome, I think it just means that he’s less crappy than all the crap they’ve seen so far today. Whee.

Continuing with the “We’re in Orlando and so is Disneyworld” theme and opening the next segment of the show to “When You Wish Upon A Star,” we see several more losers, well, losing. The obligatory fat girl, a cute blonde with horse teeth, and the typical dorky dude who won’t take no for an answer because he doesn’t want to go back to Cleveland and his life of masturbating to clips of Princess Leia.

But the next featured auditioner seems to be none of the above. He is Jermaine Purefoy, back to try his luck for a second time.

He tried out with a bunch of friends season 7, and he knows he shouldn’t have made it that time, but wants to try again with some Tony Bennett. Interesting choice. He has a pretty good voice, I’m not throwing anything at the TV, which is a bonus. Cutie Pie thinks his voice was very consistent. Randy thinks it was the best he’s heard so far. BITCH says his voice is honest, which is quite comical coming from her, and Simon believes the chicks will dig him. That equals a table full of yes votes, and Jermaine is on to Hollywood! woot.

We are now at the end of day #1 of Wh-Orlando, and down to one final contestant. Shelby, who is just a dear sweet girl and I want to hug her and make her a drink and stuff. She was born with an underdeveloped cranial nerve, which caused one side of her mouth to be unoperational her entire life. Basically, it looks like half of her smile is reminiscent of the Joker’s and the other half has had a stroke. Sad. And she is so sweet and not annoying that I can’t even make fun of it. Must be the mommy in me, damn it.

Gaycrest is sweet and charming while interviewing her before she heads in for her audition, so I’m thinking he must be trying to hit it…deformity or not, she’s really freaking cute. You can only tell her mouth is messed up when she smiles or talks. You could hit it from the back and never know the difference. Ah, damn it, I just slapped my own hand….no making fun of the sweet deformed girl! Gah!

She busts out “Turn Me On” by Norah Jones, and I’m surprised…the girl’s got a voice. She does a perfectly fine audition, then gets flustered at the end, misses a word, then says, “Holy Shit,” which was obviously bleeped out. Simon and the others laugh, and I think it’s because they were impressed by her voice and tenacity and her charming nature, because you know no one else would have gotten away with it.

Simon wasn’t blown away by her voice, but he likes her. Randy liked her voice, but likes her more. Cutie Pie thinks she has potential, especially for being so young. Everyone says yes, though, and she gets through to Hollywood! Go Deformed Girl!!! And that wraps up day #1, and I’m about to go light up a joint change into my jammies when I realize that…

Oh. Crap. There’s another day.

Ok! Day 2 it is! Cutie Pie was called back to New York, so there goes BITCH’s butt buddy and we are down to only three judges today (ahem, the way it should be!!!). Randy is wearing the coolest shirt ever….

…and he is looking forward to spending more quality time today bonding with Simon since they are missing a judge. How the hell am I supposed to say you guys are straight and lay off the gay jokes when you say shit like that? Seriously. (ha)

BITCH steps in to listen to herself talk give the hopefuls a pep talk before auditions begin. “Be yourself. Have fun. If you have fun, we have fun. Draw us in…” she drones on unhelpfully. Yes, potential famous singers…take it from someone who couldn’t hack it as a star and was relegated to backup singing and writing hits for real performers. She obviously knows what the hell she’s talking about.

How have you guys listened to this chick for a whole season? I hate self-important skanks like this. The only pompous bitch I wanna hear talk is myself, you dig?

But, back to the auditions. First up for today is a dude named Jay Stone. He says he will be singing “Come Together” by The Beatles, and there is a collective sigh from the audience (aka, me). But then he shocks me by busting out one of the best beatbox remixes I’ve ever heard. Seriously, dawg, if you didn’t see it, go youtube that shit…now. Randy and BITCH were trying to beatbox along and make fun of the guy, but I really think he was great. BITCH says yes, Randy asks if he sing. He breaks out an impromptu version of “Ain’t No Sunshine,” and even though Idiots 2 and 3 are beatboxing along, it’s good, he can sing. Simon the partypooper says no, citing the lack of success of Blake Lewis (who is not even in the same ballpark). BITCH says yes, and after some cajoling, Randy finally gives in with the second yes needed to send Jay on to Hollywood. Simon will never let him get into the big show, but for real, this guy is rad.

We are then “treated” to some of the girls from Orlando, the first two, Janell and Brittany, who are good but not great singers, and let through I’m sure because they were cute; and a third, Kasi, who sang Bonnie Raitt’s “Something To Talk About.” I personally think Kasi sounded off key and terrible, and get me enough vodka and a packed bar on karaoke night and I could do better, but these idiots liked her and sent her through. Jigga What?

Next up for slaughter is a gentleman named Cornelius. Randy asks him where he learned his moves, and he replies, from his friends who are adult entertainers. Inneresting. Randy then asked him for his number. Not really. But maybe.

Cornelius is singing “Rollin’” by Tina Turner, and all I’ve gotta say is this is going to be good. His voice is better than I expected, not AI good, but singing in church on Sundays head of the choir good. He then jumps up and straight down into a split! Holy crap ow! That made my ladybits hurt just from watching, never mind that this guy has junk down there!

Not only did he make all three judges (and all of America, save Paris Hilton and any strippers watching) cringe, he also managed to seriously split his pants, from crotch halfway down his inseam. Brilliant, Corny. And this guy just keeps singing. Simon says he has to say yes after that, because it was serious sacrifice. BITCH and Randy manage to say yes through their laughs, and Corny’s going to Hollywood, baby!!! So all you have to do is show your junk and possibly castrate yourself to get in. Excellent.

After another blissful commercial break, we are back with the boy judges’ wet dream, two sisters auditioning together. One is blonde, and one is brunette, but unfortunately, they both have ugly faces. They’re lucky though, they both have okay bodies and great hair and makeup, so you know they get away with being ugly and still get free drinks at the bar.

They still live with their mom (awesome), who has a salon in the basement of her house. They are apparently “stylists” at said salon, which would explain the great camouflage of the ugly. Blondie, Bernadette (wtf?) goes first. Her audition was ok, she didn’t really push her voice, which was probably necessary to sound good. All personality, no depth. Brownie, aka Amanda, goes next, and she makes the mistake of trying to push her superficially good voice, which doesn’t work out well. Randy agrees with me. Right on, dawg. BITCH thinks they could add something to Hollywood week, and Simon mumbles something about menage. As for votes, after some hemming and hawing Randy gives in and says yes to the sisters. BITCH says yes because she doesn’t want to break them up. Simon tells it how it is and says he only wants to say yes to Blondie, but is outvoted and both go through. Oh. yes. Oh. Baby. Yes. Can you sense my overwhelming not sarcastic at all excitement?

Remember the delusional masturbating dorks I spoke of earlier, that cause a fuss about not making it because they have nothing else to go home to?

His name is Jared, and he believes he is a great singer–great enough to be the next American Idol. I’m curious to know if any of the singers that have actually won said in their audition interviews, “I’m going to be the next American Idol!” I bet not many. Anyhoo. Jared. He will be wowing us with “Amazing Grace.”

I think I know this guy. He graduated high school with me, never left our small town, has had no less than 12 dead end jobs that he always gets fired from for showing up stoned. He now spends his time drinking $1 Happy Hour PBR’s, bumming cigarettes off fellow bar patrons, and doing Chad Kroeger imitations on karaoke night and talking about his singing “prospects.” That guy.

His singing is exactly what I described above, which is not good. BITCH flat out asks the guy if he thinks he’s a good singer. She says, “I’m not trying to be rude, I just really want to know if you thought that was good.” He is shocked and answers, “Are you serious?” She replies by telling him he sounded like a lawnmower, and she’s actually right. Simon calls it after that, and thanks him for his time. Jared starts the whole begging for two more seconds thing, like he’s going to magically bust out a voice that can hold a tune. Randy tries to let him down gently, but he’s not having it. He starts singing again, and just will not stop. Security is called over, and they try to just help him off the stage. He tells them, and the judges, that he can’t leave. I almost feel sorry for the guy and his delusions. The situation escalates, a cop is brought in, and the dude is led out in cuffs, still whining, “And you’re going to say I can’t sing, Randy?” Oh man.

On to the last commercial break, which means, if my Spidey Sense is correct, we will have one more sob story who can actually sings then we will be done…thank god.

And the last charity case of the night is Matt Lawrence, and he is here for redemption. In high school, he had a “sense of adventure.” Apparently, this sense of adventure, and not drugs or bad decisions, led him to rob a bank when he was 15! Wah wah wah, we are supposed to feel sorry for him because he spent four years in prison? Because of something dangerous and criminal and stupid that he did and admits to doing? I fucking quit this bitch, seriously.

Now, instead of struggling to restart their lives like most ex-cons are doing, he is managing his father’s successful business and is auditioning for AI. Fabulous. Tonight he will be singing “Trouble” by Ray LaMontagne. Maybe it’s because I’m biased, but I’m not overwhelmed by his performance. It was good, but meh. Simon says it was brilliant, that he really can sing, and that it was extremely authentic. BITCH completely agrees with Simon, and compliments his control. Randy thinks so too, dawg. He’s through to Hollywood, and I’m officially done. Le sigh.

Alrighty, my Gasmic Darlings, another round of American Idol auditions done. Next week they will be back in L.A., with judges worse than the idiots trying out (Avril Lavigne? Katy Perry? You’re joking, right? At least Posh is fierce. And banging Becks. You can do anything if you’re banging Becks). Stay tuned right here to get the dirt!

Love and Bubbles,
HappyHousewife