Trannies ‘N’ Grannies

After last week’s circus of a season premiere, I was actually, in my guilty pleasure heart of hearts, sort of looking forward to tonight’s Los Angeles episode of “America’s Got Talent.” What kind of crazy wild antics would they have tonight? More bratty kids? More vaudevillian entertainment? Perhaps the Hoff would move his eyebrows?

Unfortunately, what we got was less biting sarcasm from Piers, even lower standards than ever before, and a whole bunch of auditioners who’d gotten lost on their way to the “American Idol” and “Last Comic Standing” tryouts. And no, The Hoff didn’t move his brows.
After the Hoff in question makes everyone in the studio wait on account of his unsurprising prissy vanity, we get our first contestant. Guess where he’s from?

Andy Williams, holla at ya boy!

Yes, the tacky town mentioned in our last recap has reappeared, and with a vengeance. This cowboy leaps around and yelps like a little girl who just got her pigtails pulled, but doesn’t do much more than swing around his lasso. I am so relieved when Piers criticizes him for doing “not much more than twirlin’ your rope around.” See? Piers and I are one and the same, people. We’re both bitches with no talent of our own.

You know, I used to think that Sharon was the Paula Abdul of this train wreck. However, upon further inspection, I realize that Hasselhoff is the true Paula. No matter how bad anyone is, he tries his darndest to make every single performer feel good.

Next up is hyper-articulate Cinda Ramseur (rhymes with Pasteur), and she claims to be a singer, but I think she is more of an actress, to be honest. She overpronounces every word with the weepiest eyes I’ve ever seen. And anyway, shouldn’t singers be automatically delegated to the American Idol auditions? Whatev’s.

“I just…. I just FEEL so much”

She sings her damn heart out and almost cries in the first few seconds. She’s good though… she reminds me of that old singer Des’ree. Remember? She was on the soundtrack to “Romeo and Juliet?”

Wouldn’t it be hilarious if that WAS Des’ree, making the slyest comeback of all time? That would be genius. Sharon purrs that no one is going to soon forget that name, and naturally the judges all let her through and make all of Cinda’s dreams come true! Awww!

After a short commercial break, we come back to see a quick “freak” montage, wherein the editors equate drag queens with snake charmers and Alice Cooper look-alikes. Funny, I always put drag queens in the same category of the Pussycat Dolls.

*gasp!* Nicole Scherzingsphincter?

However, I don’t know which category to put the next performer in… she sings “I Will Survive” with her mouth closed. I just wonder how it was that she perfected this technique?

OH GOD I THINK SHE’S GONNA BLOW!

It sounds downright unearthly, as though you’re hearing someone trapped in a trunk sing “Disco Hits of the 70s.” Jerry Springer makes some adorably sexist comments about how much he loves it when a woman keeps her mouth shut. Oh you! You know what I love? When has-been talk show hosts leave their careers nicely buried in the graveyard of the popular consciousness. Piers claims it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever seen, and I’m pretty sure that’s saying a lot coming from him. Of course, it would be saying even more if it were coming from The Hoff. I can only imagine the outrageous acts he’s seen in his day.

We are treated to a li’l montage of some truly ridiculous acts, set to all-too-appropriate circus music, including a fellow who puts himself through (and gets stuck in) the spin cycle (literally, he brings out a washer and everything), and this guy:

My first grade teacher Mrs. Olmstead???

Then they play the animal montage, which can only signal the start of the most annoying section of this competition. Maybe we’ll get some nice parrot ventriloquism or even some belly-dancing ferrets. (Not so) coincidentally, this is happens to be Sharon’s favorite part, and she claps enchantedly when a gentleman brings out his acrobatic cats.

The weird thing is, Hasselhoff loves it. Bwha??? I guess that guy’ll eat anything you put in front of him. The Hoff tells him that it’s just fantastic what he’s doing, rescuing these cats from the shelter. Sure, and putting them on stage in front of 450 cheering people with music and lights flashing around them and making them do tricks is sure to soothe their spirits.

But then wait….. PIERS? Piers passes them through to the next level? You’ve gotta be kidding me! I would expect this kind of behavior from Sharon… Hasselhoff even… but Piers?? WTF? Have you no shame?

“Please say hello to Fat-Ass Whiskers and my assistant, Jessica Biel”

From rescuing cats to rescuing homeless children, we land upon the sob story of Colton. He was rescued from foster care by his dance teacher. Somebody buy the movie rights to that one RIGHT. NOW. It’s got Jennifer Lopez written all over it. Except maybe he could be played by Dakota Fanning or something. “I wanna dance, I wanna rap, I wanna sing… I wanna do all of it,” says young Colton. Great, we’ve been needing a new K-Fed.

Does anybody else think this looks a little weird?

He actually is a pretty amazing dancer, and it’s clear he’s bursting with potential. Jerry Springer gets all father-figurey backstage and literally roots for the kid, whispering “Come on, come on! You’ve just gotta let him through!” That’s precious. And in a move that is either painfully ironic, soul-crushingly mean, or trying-to-be-nice-but-kind-of-being-a-total-bitch, Sharon proclaims that this kid’s mother must be just SOOOO proud of him.

This is what your face looks like as your heart plummets into your stomach. Just keep smilin’.

Back to the comedy! Next we have a slew of drag queens, and I suppose the editors just thought, “Ehhh, we’ll throw ‘em all in together.” What, Texas didn’t have any queens? The best one was this one, who actually could really move that gangly body of hers (his):

Olive Oyl in drag

Or how about this one, who sounded exactly like my grandma?

Lucille Ball in drag

Speaking of grandmothers, the cake-topper was this dude, Darnell, who went by the name of Granny Pearl. He was like Eddie Murphy’s old lady from “The Nutty Professor” and his stand-up routine was actually quite good.

Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Kenan Thompson.

Then we have the Great Cranium. But don’t call him a magician. He’s an illusionist.

Wasn’t he the villain in “Mars Attacks”?

He’s brought his equally draconian sister as his assistant. In his act, he makes her disappear, then does some shit with fire, and then makes her reappear, you know, the usual magic. But THEN… he makes ANOTHER girl appear! WHOA! Didn’t see that one coming! The judges freaking love it and Hasselhoff murmurs creepily, “So wait…. are they… BOTH your sisters?” Ewwwwww

The Hoff would tap that

So then we’ve got this guy.

King Tut has been resurrected, courtesy of the Cock-adoodle Cabaret!

He says he was destined to be an entertainer, and that’s why he was sent to Earth.

Don’t you mean back in time from Ancient Egypt?

He does some belly dancing, if by “belly dancing” you actually mean “tittie dancing” because that’s the only part of his body that really shakes. But entertaining he is. Hasselhoff, a little bit out of nowhere, declares, “I PREFER WOMEN.” Okay, yes, we get it Hoff, you’re “not” gay. Drop it!

“Titties, you know? I like TITTIES.”

When there is some dispute over whether or not to keep the guy for the next round, Jerry chimes in by entering the stage with no shirt and trying his hand at tittie dancing. No show will be more successful than the one where the host loves attention more than the auditioners or judges combined.

The tragically camera-shy Jerry Springer, everyone.

He almost gets through, but then ruins it by rapping about how people need a calculator to understand what he’s saying. Oh man! I always make that mistake too!

After him is a rockabilly band made up of 15-year-olds, and goddamn if they’re not talented! They certainly have their shit together a lot more than I did at 15. When I was that age, I was so awkward I would turn beet red whenever anyone tried to talk to me. I also had a perm. These guys are way cooler.

There’s nothing I love more than a bitchin’ female drummer, except a guitarist who can still play while balancing himself on an upright bass. These guys are… well… rad.

What a charming group of soon-to-be high school dropouts.

They’re a hard act to follow, for sure. This next chick does not live up to it. She and her fugly friends try to rap.

Hey, girl on the left? It’s called a razor. Look into it.

After she gets booed off the stage, she proclaims in a serenely sweet voice that she hopes everyone in the audience will keep going after their dreams because she will cheer them on. And she follows that up with this:

Tasty. You know the Hoff loved getting hassled by that.

Mid-stroke

Next are the inconsequential twin brothers Jason and Nolan, who play the licker violin. Did I hear that right? Licker? I barely even know her! Ah ha ha… ha… thanks folks, I’ll be here all summer. Anyway, they get booed off the stage faster than you can say “two virgins.”

After a silly montage (the producers are fond of those), we end up with a hot grandma from Boston or somewheres who’s young at heart and a god-awful singer. She says that after her husband died, someone told her to go hang at the senior center. “I said gee, I don’t wanna be with all the old fahts.” (that’s farts, for you Westerners.) So she started going to the disco instead. Apparently she woke up this morning wearing this outfit, with a raging hangover and the unbridled desire to be old, famous and fabulous.

She is terrible. There. I said it. She is absolutely terrible. I love her spirit and all that bullshit but her voice was awful. Piers puts her through to the next round and I think hmm. He may have a soul after all. But come on! If you let her through you should let the licker twins have a go at it. One of those judges had better sprout a pair before I come out there and take over. I’m lookin’ at you, Piers.

After the break we have another comedian, who makes one good bra joke, but other than that I can’t tell what the hell she’s saying. They like her though (big surprise!) and let her through (another surprise!). After her is a 17-year-old pogoist. No, that’s not a new form of religious zealot, that’s one who uses a pogo stick. Remember those?

“WHEEEEEEEEE!!!”

The way he bounces, I begin to think this may be the next cool thing after skateboarding. Seriously, he kind of makes it look fun. For some reason, when he’s performing, they cut to Sharon and she’s so misty-eyed she looks like she’s about to lose it. What is it, Sharon? Did Jack used to be an avid pogoist before all the drugs?

Just keep it together, Sharon. Don’t let ‘em see you break.

That’s been a lot of Americans. Let’s get some culture all up in here. Next is what seems to be the empress of China.

And possibly the emperor, there behind her.

Or perhaps just a plate-balancing acrobat. She does her thang on stage, and I think even balances the plates sideways.

Piers admits that he buzzed her right at the moment he thought it would fuck up her concentration the most. He likes testing people’s abilities under pressure. What an asshole. I love him!

He makes her cry with that one. Luckily, The Hoff shows great generosity of spirit and goes up onstage to give her a big creepy hug. Ugghhhh. Hoff.

Our next contestant is a young man who says he “just wants to share his feelings” with America. UGHHHHH I automatically give him my X!

The next John Mayer, with even smaller testicles.

He gets up onstage and sings like a freakin’ Backstreet Boy. Come on, I plead to Piers, X that douche right outta there! Please! No such luck. They fucking love him? What the hell? Whatever happened to Piers’ icy knife of emotional cruelty? Whatever happened to crushing someone’s dreams? Bring back the old days!

One of our last contestants is Hanne, who looks exactly like the kind of mutt that would be produced if those girls Michelle and Nik from “America’s Next Top Model” could somehow make a child.

+

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Flesh-eating bacteria, anyone?

Gross! She says she came to America in 1988 to be a singer. 1988? Honey, if you haven’t made it yet, you will never make it. Let’s just call a spade a spade here, eh?

Sure enough, she gets up to sing and sounds like a cat screeching while clawing furiously upon a chalkboard. Honestly one of the saddest voices on earth. Finally the judges get enough balls to tell someone “no.” Thankfully it was her.

Or maybe if Diana Ross and Michael Jackson hooked up. *shudder*

Well, we’ve come to the conclusion of another 2-hour episode. God bless us all. Our final contestant is fine young man for whom we should feel so much empathy that he gets his own slo-mo, sad-song intro. For Christ’s sake, let’s just get it over with! Let’s see: Socially awkward? Check. Painfully shy? Check. Big dreams? Check. Dead grandmother? Check. He’s got all the makings of a successful sob story. This should be good.

He belts out his song, and to be honest he IS pretty good. He’s a music teacher, after all. He’s a little stage-y, but he puts everything he’s got into it, and it pays off.

The effervescent singer/dancer/actor/entertainer David Hasselhoff loves it so much he gives it a standing ovation. Wow. Well, okay… I mean, I thought it was good and all, but… eh, whatever. When it gets down to the final decision, Sharon strings him along for a good little bit, but finally lets him through to the Vegas round.

Another victory. Another dream fulfilled. And on that note, I’m gonna go vomit.

“ON BROAAAAADWAAAAYYYYYY”

What did you think about this episode? I thought far too many people had their hopes and wishes validated. That’s not entertainment! See you on the boards!