Magic Carpets

Oh lahrd y’all. What a mess tonight has turned into. Let’s start with the positive. Gosh, the contestants all looked awful purdy tonight!

I wish I could be like “E” and pass off the musical critiques to Simon and Kara but, that ain’t what I’m [not] paid for. So let’s dive right in.

Looked good. More in the moment. Unmemorable. Has a decent base so will probably survive the curse of the firsts.

Mercy me, what a disaster of ginormous purportions. The ex, who I found sprawled on my sofa after a lovely dinner out (great way to sour a stomach), practically shouted that this hefer was headed home…all five of her.

Silly. Why is this no talent (unless rock hard abs count) having child still on the big stage? Stoopid little girls and boys who are voting hormonally. That’s why! Bit of advice, just because you got a little wet or popped a boner when this child slid his hair across the stage, doesn’t mean he can sing. Not even remotely.

Let’s just stick with this cold/tonsilitis story and call it a night, shall we?!

It’s official. This child can sing. Best. Damn. Performance. Of. The. Night. Love this child and her magic carpet.

Big Mike
Bored. To. Tears.

I wish I hadn’t heard this song through the grapevine or any other damn place. Kinda looked like Kim Jung Ill from North Korea. Sad cuz I like this child a lot.

Cute. So there’s that.

I really don’t understand the appeal unless it’s the smile, the hair, the come-hither eyes. Oh hell, this is one purdy child. I have no idea if he can sing.

What the hell was that? Huh? Really? I mean I’d already pegged the five Paiges to be going home, but after this bunch of mess, I might have to rethink that position.

The ex has proclaimed this child the white Patty LaBelle. Really? Because I just think it’s a whole shreiking bunch of a mess. But what do I know? Well, I do know I wish she looked on stage like she did in that fluff piece.

Now the ex has accused me of being in too foul a mood to write tonight’s review. In fact, the ex went as far as to text the Professor and suggest I bow out of my reviewing responsibilities. I told the ex to eff off. And I’m unanimous in this.

With visions of a girl named Crystal strumming me like that geetar swung around her neck, I’m climbing onto that magic carpet for dreamland. Night y’all.

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