Frauds – All of Them!

Now listen here kids, I’ve straight up had it up to here with this fraudulent and faux “singing” competition we sometimes affectionately call Idol. The idea that I should spend not one, but two hours watching the heehawing and caterwauling that emanated from my big ass teevee – the kind that hangs on the wall and projects a crystal clear image – was downright insulting, not to mention a colossal waste of my precious and valuable time.

Straight from the get-go we were insulted by voices that were lost in a fog, song choices that, at my most generous, were just wrong, wrong, wrong. And speaking of such, did the producers of this train-wreck of a show take the week off? Where were the damn vocal coaches? Huh?! Where? Was the advice “just sing any damn thing you want and you’ll do fine?!” Stupid!

And then there was that idiot called Norman something-or-other who made a farce, a mockery, of an already farcical show! Really, how low can these people go in an effort to prop up what must be sagging ratings. The gods, all of them, must be spinning in the heavens wondering what that hot mess was. Lawd, that child went so far as to make out with an inanimate object right there on the stage. I felt molested just watching. Hell no, I won’t love him!!! One simple minded person actually started a petition on that there thing called Facebook begging for people to vote for the mo-ron! Say what? I nearly sh*t myself!

But here’s the damn thing kids, as rotten and revolting as that performance by Norman something-or-other was, just about all the rest of the “finalists” stunk to high heaven as well. Oh Lawd, it was a complete blood-bath of epic proportions. And I was reminded again, and again, that the damn judges in their “infinite” wisdom, sent my boy Jamar Rogers home. Yes kids, they sent that child home, and replaced with with these frauds! If I’m being honest, and we know I always am, this is a verifiable disaster! And should the rumors of Mr. Rogers return turn out to somehow be untrue, I may never be able to watch this sad little show again. Yes kids, you heard me right!

Having said all of that, there were a couple of little gurls whose performances verged on decent and who I wouldn’t mind seeing in the top 12 or whatever amalgamation we will be seeing this year. First and foremost was the little girl who apparently went to the Jason Castro (member him, the one I wished and fantasized about strumming me like his damn geetar?) school of interviewing prowess. Lawd kids, that little gurl was just plain dumb when that metrosexual of metrosexuals sat up in that hideously designed coke-red room and tried to pry and prod all sorts of meaningless information out of her. But when that child took the stage and sang a song that played on my cassette player way, way back in the day, oh lawd, I nearly sat up off of my sofa! Yes, the competition, at least for the night, began right there. It also just about ended right there as well.

Now listen, I also liked that quirky, cute and funny little gurl named Megan Joy. Sure she wasn’t a blow out or “da bomb” but she was cute and relatively good. I did NOT like that idiot named Adam. Now listen, I know that some gurls and boys think the moon rises on this child’s ass and have all manner of lustful thoughts roaming through their pretty little brains about this little boy. I do NOT! He should have tried out for American Broadway Idol for which he is perfectly qualified! I’m sorry kids, but I gotta call it the way I see it. I would much, much prefer to see that little child who almost mangled Michael Jackson’s ditty “Man in the Mirror” move on through and up to the big house! Yes kids I would. There was one other little gurl I rather liked…perhaps it was that she sang a timeless classic, but like her I did. Miss “Betty Davis Eyes” should at the very least be considered for a wild card seat (just not Jamar Rogers seat…just sayin!).

Listen, there was a lot of talk about legs, legs and more legs. And when it’s coming from Drunk and/or Stoned Paula, we know for sure that is a bad, bad sign. When all four of the judges parade out that tired compliment, we know for sure we’ve just witnessed a damn bloodbath!

Listen here, I couldn’t come up with a top three from last night – Could you?

UPDATE – Now listen here, I don’t have but a quick minute to give you the run down on what you already know. That Norman somebody-or-other is out…thankfully! So is just about everyone else. This was NOT a surprise was it? No, absolutely not! We’ve now got half the spots filled. I’m still trying to suss out when we will be naming the wild-card spots…maybe next results show? Will let you know as soon as I find out. Cheers!

David squared

Yes, by now you already know that the David’s will be gracing the big stage at the Kodak Theatre next week. We pretty much knew the results. We are not shocked.

Once again, I was distracted. My co-hort, The Professor, who got bored nearly immediately this season and, despite his promises otherwise, could not make himself sit in front of his trusty laptop and whip out words of wit and wisdom regardin this mess of a season on Idol. Anyway…that sentance was a mess huh? Well, blame the Professor! My phone rang at a little after 7p alerting me to the Professor’s imminent arrival here in the Southland. Before I even had a chance to fluff-n-stuff and throw the progeny in the shower, in walked the ever distinguished Professor wearing a tight-ass shirt covering a rather amazing torso that proudly proclaimed that “It’s beautiful being easy!” Ahhh…truer words were never more appropriately applied. In with him came the progeny’s amazingly beautiful and breath-takingly voluptous Tia from the OC. Having my two best friends in one room is rare and quite frankly drove any thought of who, what, when, where…at least when it came to Idol.

Truthfully though, who cared about private planes, limos to schools, hometowns and blah, blah, blah. I didn’t! I did notice two things though – the sound was once again a mess tonight. Don’t know who’s been running it…but they outta be strung up by nipple clamps. And, I noticed Fantasia’s hair. She “tried something different” and DAMN…and on the subject of Fantasia…she looked FIERCE!!!!!!! WOO WOO

In the end though, we knew. We knew that Sayesha’s spot in the bottom three had finally run it’s course. She’s lived their practically the whole season. And, while none of this year’s contestants are AMAZING, they are good…she just didn’t quite match up to David squared.

Now, I’ve got to go down one more bottle of water. That damn Professor and the progeny’s voluptous Tia from the OC tempt me to do bad things and, well…I really don’t want to show up to the place I pretend to work (they pretend to pay me…so it works out) being a hung-over wretch!

Night y’all!

MVP

I was absolutely much too busy last evening watching Kobe Bryant receive his first ever MVP award to watch the show I’m suppose to write about. I don’t care! Frankly, unless they had given me the judges seats on Idol and sat Buddha and Gandhi on either side of me, I just couldn’t be bothered. And, if I’m being honest, and you know I always am, even Buddha and Gandhi, as much as I appreciate them, may not have been enough of a draw to drag me away from my excellent seats at the Staples Center watching Kobe receive his MVP trophy and then kick the Utah Jazz’s ass! Ok…he didn’t do it by himself…but, gotta tell ya, he was pretty amazing to watch!

So, here’s the deal. I did not watch Bo Bice perform. We all know he’s a nice guy and yeah…whatever. I did not watch Maroon 5 belt out their latest. And I love me some Maroon 5. But even had they been nakkid on stage, I just couldn’t be bothered! I did not watch what we already knew was going to happen. I heard on the news this morning. Yes, you heard that right…I heard on the news. Say WHAT?!?!? Seriously, if LA news doesn’t have anything more important to report than the axing of Jason Castro, a contestant most deserving to be axed, then we’re in a heap of trouble. Then again, it is LA and our stars are as important as our homicides. That’s not totally a bad thing!

Go LAKERS!

Crushing the Bob’s!

Oh dear geebus! Somebody’s head got WAY too damn big after last week’s big safety show and, well, it showed tonight. Y’all know I have loved me some Jason Castro and have wished, dreamed and visualized that dread-locked, breathless thing strumming me like I was that geetar that is often slung around his shoulders but tonight that child plum lost his damn mind! First, just because you got a decent facsimile of that god Bob Marley’s hair, does NOT by any stretch or lock of hair, mean that you should try to pull out “I Shot the Sheriff” and then give the worst performance of your life with it. Trust me little boy, your cute smile and stoner like guffaw’s will not, absolutely not save your ass! That was dreadful! And if that wasn’t bad enough, he done went and forgot the lyrics to that other god, Bob Dylan’s number “Tamborine Man”…say what?! If I’m being honest, and you know I always am, Mr. Castro would absolutely not be the one I would have voted for tonight…fantasy or no! Bleck!!

The Bob’s lost their mo and their jo tonight. It was absolutely devastating! But the Bob’s weren’t done in by Mr. Cook or Ms. Mercado both of whom were very capable…sort of. Well, ok…first round really just sucked! I mean Duran Duran and Tina Turner were covered and rather badly! Tina Turner is my all time Idol, I worship at the legs that sixty something year old woman possesses. Having seen that woman in concert perform “Proud Mary” and then watching that, loveable for sure, fraud make a mess and a mockery of it just made me sick to my stomach. The good Farmacist, Dr. P. Haze never bothered to turn over to pronounce that Tina Turner, Ms. Sayesha was NOT.

I will not say that their second numbers sucked…in fact, I quite liked Sayesha’s rendition of Sam Cooke’s “Change is Gonna Come”! D.C. Vodkalips rang to say that she absolutely couldn’t stand the unseemly white “bra” strap that was running across the front of Sayesha’s dress. Thankfully, Ms. Vodkalips felt that Sayesha redeemed herself with the sparkley and distracting lip gloss. Frankly though, after all the boohoo’ing which was way too reminiscent of that gawd-awful, blubbering and babbling Brooke, I was ever so slightly put off. David Cook sang a song by The Who…big woo! He’s better than what he was tonight. Not to fear though, like Ahnold…he’ll be baaack!

The real crushing though was done by elfin boy David Archuletta. Now kiddo’s, ya’ll know I really am not a fan. Not because the child sucks or anything so silly because we all know he has an amazing voice. But something isn’t right. He’s for damn sure a prodigy. And well, he should be given props for pulling off two quite beautiful performances. I adored the first one and if I voted – because kiddo’s, I may write about it, but I don’t care quite enough to pick up the phone and vote – I would have stood by that cute little child, darlin’ for sure! I’m not sure I felt so wonderful about the cover of my sixth cousin, twice removed – yes, I’m related ever so slightly to that probably dead legend Elvis although not nearly close enough to get any money out of the deal, but enough for bragging rights – yes it was sweet and tender and sent the little girls, who don’t have an ice ball’s chance in Dante’s hades of ever getting in that child’s pants, into full swoon. Me…not so much! However, he crushed, crushed, crushed the Bob’s, and for that, well, I grudgingly must give him his props! Like previous winner Taylor Hicks, I see a long career for this child as Wayne Newton’s replacement!  Heck, don’t knock it…Wayne Newton’s made a fortune doing whatever shtick it is he does!

Seriously y’all, I’ve played the Drunk Paula game and am feeling, like Ms. Vodkalips, just a little bit tipsy.  It’s going to be a struggle to take the dog out to pee, tuck the progeny in, pry the good, but very asleep Farmacist off the sofa,  and then watch Chef Ramsey bully and badger those imbecile’s over at Hell’s Kitchen.

Cheerio!

What just happened?

Seriously, if you’re like me, and we know you must be as you are reading this bit of drivel, then you are scratching your head wondering what the hell kind of a mess we’ve managed to find ourselves in. If you attempted to play the Drunk Paula Game, well, you’re just smashed. If you checked out early (like before the show even started), who can blame you. Certainly it was clear that Drunk Paula, et al, just showed up to collect their paycheck, effectively phoning in their performance, and not even managing to do an even half way respectable job at that. Confusing! Chaotic! One spectacular hot mess! Can you hear it? It’s the whooshing sound of that giant toilet juggernaut called American Idol.

First off, who in their right mind thought that picking an American Idol means rehashing the songs of long dead barely living legend Neil Diamond? Huh? Who? Some old fool who is as out of touch with the modern world as American Idol with reality. Stooooopid! Not that I’m dissing Neil Diamond because in truth, he is a legend. However, if we want to get away from karaoke performances, then Executive Producer Nigel L. needs to get off his wrinkly old duff and bring AI into the future, otherwise, what we witnessed tonight will be remembered by generations to come as the first death knells.

As for those lovable frauds we are calling karaoke stars contestants, I don’t have much too say. I was so distracted and distraught by the mess that was coming from the judges table, that I took a bit of the good Farmacist, Dr. P. Haze’s medicinal offerings and zoned right out. Not that I totally zoned out, one can’t do that when their progeny has joined them to watch the show. However, after he, at 9, pronounced the show a massive train wreck (apparently he feels it’s his job to mimic Simon’s acerbic commentary), I did not feel bad for tuning out. As such, there will be little from me by way of real, hard-hitting commentary on these lovable fraud’s performances. Then again, when do you ever get real, hard-hitting commentary from me.

Jason Castro

Absolutely LOVED “Forever in Blue Jeans” – fit him to a T. He sang another song, but I don’t remember it. Perhaps it’s better that way. As much as I love me some Jason Castro, and wish he’d strum me like that dang geetar he holds so gently, I must nominate him for my first spot in the bottom two. Having done that, I do NOT want him to go home because there is one, who is SO much more deserving…

Brooke White

Yes children, that one; that simpleton; that babbling Brooke needs to be sent a packin’! Now, the progeny thought long and hard as she mangled her first number and finally remembered where he’d heard that song (you figured it out yet?…let me give you a hint…BIG GREEN OGRE). After yelling out that she was “ripping off” Shrek, he deemed her number a train wreck – apparently Simon heard the little one’s words of wisdom as he used those exact words during the first round recap. In fairness, I did like her rendition of the second number. This dingbat is, once again, my choice to go back to AZ where she can do whatever it is that blonde bimbette’s do. Begone little girl, begone!

David Cook

Yes David, we appreciate your shout-outs to your dying brother but don’t you think it was a little over the top to have his initials on BOTH your jacket and your geetar? Otherwise, I have absolutely no complaints about your performances tonight. In fact, I agree with the unusually confused and misspoken Paula when she stated that she felt like she was looking at the winner already.

David Archuleta

Ummmmm…”amateurish” sums up BOTH performances for me. My little guy actually compared him to Chicken Little from several seasons ago. For me, the reference was a bit of a shock you know. I mean, the little guy suggested that the only reason elfin boy David is around is because of the “Chicken Little Effect.” What is the Chicken Little Effect you ask? Apparently, and according to my 9 year old, it is stupid little girls calling to vote for someone because they’re cute, but not much else! Brilliant!!

Sayesha Mercado

Solid performances. Not particularly memorable. WAY too much makeup! And put some damn shoes on already. Just because Fantasia did it once don’t mean you should. Trust me girl, it ain’t cute. And as the little guy suggested, you’re feet probably stink. Ok, I told the little guy that probably wasn’t the case, but get real,after the little guy’s words, I couldn’t get the image out of my head of stinky feet. I don’t remember what she sang!

Whew! Well, Chef Gordon Ramsey is yelling his head off at those imbecile’s on Hell’s Kitchen. As frightened as I am, much like watching a train wreck in motion, I must tear myself away from this little commentary of mine and get to something that really matters – a full and complete dinner service.

Cheers!

No we mustn’t!

I don’t have much time! Why? I was motivated, shortly before dinner, to make lemon butter bars. They were luscious! Unfortunately! I ended up eating half the pan! Which means I’m on a sugar high and will crash soon! I am also attempting to dial in for my favorite fraud of the night while watching Hell’s Kitchen. It’s too much, really!

But really, none of you kids care about how off-balance I am at the moment. What you’d like to know is who I thought was unbalanced during the performances earlier this evening. Let me put it this way…I didn’t like two performances. I sorta liked two performances. I adored two performances.

Sir Andrew joined this evening as the “mentor” and my word, what a fellow he turned out to be. He appeared as uncomfortable with the idea as were the lovable frauds who are this year’s contestants seem to be with the whole idea of “Broadway” night. In fact, it seemed to me that he was snarky with just about every damn one of them – although in true form, he made it sound very dignified.

I too have several things to say about each of the performances. Unlike Sir Andrew, they will not be dignified or proper. They will however be true, because, as you kids know, I always do my best to present the facts as we know them completely unvarnished.

That babbling Brooke provided another wonderful excuse for us to vote her off. Again, she forgot the lyrics…and asked for a redo. Again? But she just said it was her first time for this to happen. Hmmmmm…well, I remembered otherwise and said so. And then one of Harvey’s gays guys provided excellent support to my sometimes failing memory. Listen America, if you can’t gather your balls together in a fashion that somehow resembles something adult-like and vote this fake, crying-ass bimbette off, then I’m gonna literally implode. Geebis!! “You must love me” my ass!

And speaking of adult-like, my boy Jason Castro made a disastrous decision to sing “Memories” from the show Cats. What? Let’s skip everything that would be obvious about why this was not a good song for him and get right to the heart of it – weed! Yes, I said it. There should be a warning label on the sides of the prescription bottles that the good Farmacist hands out to his patients that says something to the effect that decision making skills may be somewhat impaired when under the influence. I mean get real, how else do you explain this song choice? I can’t! I won’t! He sucked!

Elfin boy David was pleasant! Nothing more to say! Sayesha brought the house down, but has rather religiously been in the bottom three and had seriously unfortunate positioning tonight what with being stuck in the number one time slot. Will the curse continue? Who knows! Perhaps so though because in the end, like David, it was pleasant and…forgettable!

Perhaps it was the sugar, but I liked tatted rocker chick Carly tonight…alot! I think Sir Andrew landed square on her problem when he highlighted her incredibly poor song selection. Thankfully she actually listened to his suggestion and went with “Jesus Christ Superstar”…yeah!! She looked good! She sounded good! And hell, Simon “loved” her (this week)! On a side note, once again I felt myself getting hot flashes when the camera panned her overly tatted huzband – be still my beating heart!

The best performance of the night, hands down, was [of course] David Cook. When did this boy become such a god? I mean, damn, he’s from Blue Springs Missouri (or misery, depending on who you ask), rocks in a local dive and has done…musical theater…WTF? Well damn, it showed! Love him, mean it! Yee Haw!

Ok kids, the damn sugar has worn off and I’m crashing rather quicker than I care to admit to myself. Will be lucky if I make it to that warm cloud of a bed I share with the good Farmacist. Shutting out lights…must.find.bed!

UPDATE -  4/23/08

You’re outta here -

Frankly, I don’t know what to say.  The last several weeks have seen one shocking turn after another.  I mean, we send Michael Johns home and then we send Carly Smithson home.  WTF?!?!  Seriously, I don’t mean to be rude, but somebody needs to quit voting because somebody tears up or they feel bad because somebody screwed the song up.  Hell, y’all know I love me some Jason Castro, and would let him strum me like his geetar all day long, but he shoulda gone before ole Irish Eyes.  Frankly, Sayesha and Carly had one of their best nights EVAH and were in the bottom two.  Jason, whom I love more than my luggage, and that babbling Brooke should have been in the bottom two.  I don’t know what lap that bobble-headed Brooke has been bouncing in, but apparently it’s paying off.  And, if I’m being honest, and we know I always am, I’m just a little bit PISSED OFF!

Karaoke Night!

I mean seriously, you can’t have a bunch of star wannabes singing Miss Mariah herself and not ring the karaoke bell about 100 times. That’s not to say that these lovable frauds didn’t do a great job, but, with the exception of two, it was just straight up karaoke night over on the big Idol stage. I do need to comment just for a moment on the sexilicious Miss Thing – since the first day I heard her break glass with that voice, something like 15 years ago (maybe more), I have been in love with her Sexiness! Through her trials and triumphs, highs and lows, fat years and skinny, I’ve loved her! And by golly she never disappoints! I only wished to be one of those star-f’rs we’re calling contestants this season! It’s Mariah ya’ll!! Tonight I’m rating our lovable frauds with A (worst) to AAAAA (best).

Eflin boy David Archuleta opened the show with “When you Believe” and we quickly learned that he suffers from such a bad case of nerves that often on performance day he can’t eat. Well, get real, if I had his dad standing over me demanding perfection I wouldn’t be able to eat either. I mean, his dad is the kind that is happy only when his son does a great job and the rest of the time is a total ass! Don’t ask me where I get my info, but suffice it to say I feel for the little guy. I also can’t stand him! I don’t care if he can sing the phone book to perfection, it’s still the damn phone book! But, there’s a lot of little girls out there who see something in him they want (but probably can never have) and so they pick up their pink sparkled and bedazzeled phones and dial like crazy. AAA.5

Tattooed chick Carly gave us her version of “Without You” and rang no bells…again. What’s her deal. She’s a fabu singer but just can’t pull it together. Someone who could pull it together for me is her husband. Maybe it’s the rebel in me, but all those tatt’s on his face got me a little hot last night. WAY out of character for me. Thankfully the good Farmacist, Dr. P. Haze was already passed out and thus failed to notice my blushing cheeks. AA.5

Sometimes I like Sayesha and sometimes I don’t. Singing “Vanishing” was a smart move on her part and, when she was restrained she was quite amazing to listen to. There were sometimes where it got just a little bit shouty and unfortunately those moments stayed with me much longer than the good moments (which, in fairness were the rule throughout this performance…but still). AAA

Babbling Brooke didn’t have many options. I mean, get real, she can’t sing in the first place and then, to be asked to sing Miss Mariah…ha! So, she sang “Hero” and made it her own. She stank to high heaven! I’ve nothing more to say about her other than she needs to “hit the road jack and don’t ya come back no more, no more!” She’s like Sanjaya from last season…way outlasting her usefulness! A

Our country girl proved once again that she ain’t no dumb blond that just rode in from the farm on a turnip truck. Singing a song that only the most diehard among us knows, “Forever”, in her country, whiny, shiny voice wasn’t all bad. I mean, it was karaoke for sure…but heck, I’m gonna have to give her a whole extra point because she smartly saw her limitations and then chose “wisely!” AAA

Ok ya’ll, I’ve really got to hurry! Still must tuck our little progeny into bed, do my best to rouse the good Farmacist from his self-induced haze, then stubble up to bed and pass out. And I’d like to do it before the 10p news. Will it happen? Probably not…but I’m workin on it! Anyway, karaoke night was pretty good for the top 5. With the exception of that babbling Brooke, the all did Miss Mariah right proud. But it’s the last two that simply blew me away…

David Cook is a god! I love him! I would have his babies (assuming we could get biology to cooperate). Seriously! I mean damn, did you see Randy give his first standing O of the season. That’s huge!! And then he showed his sensitive side by leaking a little water from his eye sockets. How damn clever! I’m sure it was because the judges were just so effervescent in their praise and not because his brother, dying from brain cancer, was in the audience. I bow before the greatness that is David Cook! AAAAA

Which brings me to our final guy dread boy Jason! Damn, Damn, Damn! That version of “I Don’t Wanna Cry” could be playing in my car right now if I could just get it off of iTunes and onto my iPod! So what if Randy didn’t get it – Paula did (ok, big woo). The bigger surprise was the Simon LOVED it! Be still my beating heart! AAAA.5

I must once again ask for you guys to do the right thing and send that babbling, nonsensical Brooke floating right on home to AZ…PLEASE!!!!

UPDATE – 4/16/08

You’re outta here

To quote that great American Bernie Mac, “America, that ain’t right!”  Offering us hope that the babbling Brooke might actually go home then changing it up at the last minute and sending the better, albeit only slightly better, singer, Miss Kristy Lee Cook home.  That feisty country gurl from the backwoods of Oreegone is with us no more.  “That ain’t right America! It just ain’t right!”

Pleasant

I’m struggling y’all! Seriously! Tonight was all about inspiration and yet, I am underwhelmed and almost totally uninspired. It could be because I’ve eaten myself into some kind of diabetic coma. I told the good Farmacist, Dr. P. Haze, that perhaps I should shove something long and hard down my throat in an effort to rid myself of the bile I feel building up. I won’t tell you what the good Farmacist suggested, but I will say that I told the good Farmacist exactly what could be done with that suggestion. Bet that’ll be the last time the good Farmacist, who’s still skating on thin ice following the recent newsworthy legality questions which have cost me every last penny I’ve made blogging on this damn show, makes that suggestion again!

But really, we aren’t here to talk about Dr. P. Haze or even our adorable, and ever growing, little progeny who apparently wasn’t feeling so inspirational tonight and trooped off to bed without shouting any of his normal encouragement to his favorites. Now, if I’m being honest, and we know I always am, the little guy is still a bit miffed that pint-sized, power-house, Ramiele has left the proverbial building. He loved that little bitty thing and has some hard feelings when it comes to America and their (in his mind), lack of musical sensibilities. Again I’ve digressed.

Well, to be honest, I’m just not inspired. Not even a little! I feel like Randy acted all night. Just like some fool had done danced a jig on my grave. Speaking of fools, can someone please just shut Paula the hell up? Please? Maybe the next time she goes in to visit the good Dr. who pumps her lips full of Hollywood’s finest grade engine oil, they can pump her just a little too full making it impossible for her to even attempt to utter her completely inane and insane ramblings. I mean, not that I was really in agreement with Randy, but damn, Paula was a mess. Must of been the oil leaking out those lips…good gawd!

But like Randy said, the one time I agreed with him, we are here to discuss music. So, before I get all side-tracked and confused, let’s chat about those lovable frauds we are calling contestants.

We already knew what Michael was going to sing…as we did with all the contestants. I’ve nothing more to say. He wasn’t bad! I rather liked him. He was first and that is SO often a curse. Was anyone worse than him? Sure! Sayesha was worse! Maybe not her vocals but because for the second week in a row, she attempted a powerhouse song from a powerhouse performer. Unfortunately for her, she just ain’t got the chops to pull off a Fantasia number. She’s in trouble!

Which brings me to someone who should absolutely not be in trouble – Jason Castro. Whew Lawd! Were I really the genteel lady from the South my ancestors have prided themselves to be, I might actually have been overcome with the vapors. You know, I rather crudely suggested that Castro might be a friend of Dorothy (if you don’t know, don’t bother) because he sang a song straight out of the San Francisco gay men’s chorus’ playbook. By golly though, that hot little piece of Columbian coca came out stroking a ukalele? A what? Well, let me just get real personal right here…I’ve done watched this performance like 6 times. ’nuff said!!

Except enough is never enough, so apparently I need to talk about the other little frauds who trotted out their bits and pieces and made an effort to inspire. Ms Cook…what can I say. Well, I’ll tell ya…she should be given a reprieve from the bottom 3…just for this week! She was good…not great…but good! The other Cook in the competion though was not so great! Simon was dead on…pompous! Left me cold!!

Another performance that left me cold was Carly Smithson. Could she be making her second appearance in the bottom three? Methinks so! Which brings me to elfin boy David. Simon was right, brilliant choice of song! I absolutely love Robbie Williams and wish his stuff was more popular this side of the pond. Perhaps the best pop song out there. Elfin boy, the good Farmacist’s love not withstanding, did not do it justice. Nothing to see here ya’ll, nothing to see.

Now ya’ll, I’d seriously like to be in bed right at this moment. Except that I’m not! I’m here trying to give all you loveable devotee’s something to think about as you do your voting. Let me just say it right here…vote that damn Brooke White and her fake ass tears (after every bad performance) right off the stage. That blond bubble-headed bimbette needs to take her pompom’s, pack up her fine ass huzband, and hightail it back to the desert where she overflowed from. You’ve got a friend my ass! Once again she pulled out the fake crocodile tears as soon as the judges were the teenceeweenceest negative. That lower lip. That cocked head. That insufferable, goody-two-shoes, act makes me want to vomit. I can’t stand her! Oh lord stop me now before I have a full on coronary! Be. Gone. “Pleasant walk in the park” my aunt fanny!

Now vote dammit and get it right…send peroxided and weaved out babbling Brooke right on home! I approved this message!

Friend of Dorothy?

Those gossipy gays guys and gals over at Harvey’s pad have once again been caught with their water glass held up to the studio walls over at Idol and have come up with the song list for tonight’s big show. Here’s the list (I’m not certain if it’s in order of appearance or not) -

Sayesha Mercado – I Believe (Fantasia)
David Cook – Innocent (Our Lady Peace)
Carly Smithson – The Show Must Go On (Queen)
Brooke White – You’ve Got a Friend (James Taylor)
Jason Castro – Over the Rainbow (Judy Garland)
Michael Johns – Dream On (Aerosmith)
Kristy Lee Cook – Anyway (Martina McBride)
David Archuleta – Angels (Robbie Williams)

Yeah, you read that right, dream boy with the dreads is singing Judy Garland’s Over the Rainbow because it “inspires” him. Judy Garland herself is the patron saint of the gays and let’s get real, this song is flat owned owned by the gays. If you are a gay and haven’t bowed at the feet of Ms. Garland, as well as taken ownership of this song, then you might as well send in your Gay Card to the big faerie in the Ozone.

Which leads me to wonder something profound – Is Jason Castro a friend of Dorothy? And if he is, is my little fantasy really that far-fetched?

Ding Dang Y’all!

Be still my quiverin heart! There she was in all her glory – that big booosomed, bewigged temptress Miss Dolly Parton herself! Memories flooded back of mom ‘n pop loadin sister gurl and me into our big ole’ Oldsmobile Custom Cruiser wagon, the maroon one with wood panelin, and drivin through the smoky mountains of sister gurl’s birth to visit heaven on earth – DOLLYWOOD!! Yee Haw! Ahhh the memories! And let’s just chat here for a minute about Miss Big Boooosom herself. Ya know she’s gotta be like 90 years old, but dang y’all, she don’t look a day over 45 and that booosom…woooohooo! Plastic she may be, but plastic works for little boys playin’ with rosie and her five sisters.

With the overload of memories, I seriously doubted whether I’d be able to concentrate on the music. And lawd ya’ll, we know Miss Big Boooosom is song writer extraordinaire, but we also must contend with those frauds we are callin contestants and the question for me, assuming I could get past my juvenile obsession with those boooosoms, was would they do Miss Dolly’s songs justice. Before I could get that question properly sorted out, Brooke came strollin’ out with her geetar. Let’s get real ya’ll, this blonde thing from AZ is boring on so many levels. I know, I know…my mind is still in the juvenile gutter, but this gurl don’t do squat for me. And that strumming…bleck!

By the way, who pee’d in Simon’s Wheaties tonight? Lawd-a-mercy ya’ll, that man had his panties so twisted he was darn near turnin purple in the face. For once I was wishin ole’ Drunk Paula to reach over and provide a little lap relief. Alas, she appeared realitively sober tonight which left Mr. Nasty Pants verbally assaulting all of those precious little frauds. I wished for my dear sweet saintly grandmother to make her way off the smoky mountain retreat and stick a cake of lye soap in that man’s mouth. The chirren don’t need no more abuse than they get on the regular and man was ole’ Nasty Pants full of it.

Well, that’s not to say that some of it wasn’t deserved. I’ve already mentioned little miss goody two shoes and that mangling of Joleen. Poor little Ramiele…she’s just out classed, out sung and plum outdone. Send her packin. And lawd, ya’ll know I love me some Jason Castro, but he surely sounded the same this week as he did last. Lawd knows I’d strip nekkid and let that dread-head strum me all over like he did that geetar tonight, but ya’ll know I gott be honest (because I always am), he just bored me a little bit. And there ya have it…my bottom three.

I forgot to mention that the good Farmacist, Dr. P. Haze has spent the past several days attempting to atone for the sin of tangling with Johnny Law. As such, I came home to an amazing dinner and a lovely bottle of a fruity white wine. Kiddies, I’m just a little tanked and not particularly upset with the good Dr. any longer. That being said, and the good Dr.’s love for elfin-boy not withstanding, I am sick to death of little David Archuleta. Randy declared him back and I just declared war. That child has a lovely voice but his daddy’s got him by the balls and is runnin him around ragged makin him live out the life daddy wishes were his. Seriously ya’ll, daddy is screwin things up! If you don’t believe me, just head over to Harvey’s pad and play a little catch up. I know there’s a cute little pre-pubescent little girl out there somewhere who is just dyin for him to croon to her, but the rest of us grown folks are all throwin up just a little in our mouths.

Well ya’ll, I’m gonna wrap this up and head to bed to bask in memories of smoky mountains, big booosoms and Rosie’s regular night-time visits. I’d be stoopid though if I didn’t tell you that I absolutely adored Mr./Miss. Cook tonight. Ole lush herself, DC Vodkalips, rang to chat about Mr. Cook’s haircut…loved it! I’m pretty sure though that that night belonged to Michael Johns. Yee Haw ya’ll!!!

UPDATE – 04/02/08

You’re outta here -

Pint-sized powerhouse Ramiele Malubay who seems to have lost her voice since her soul-mate and sister Danny Noriega left the show.  Poor thing, cried buckets and buckets last night, soaking Simon’s favorite shirt.