It’s a new day…

January 11, 2010

Yes, you too have heard the words to this jingle probably as often as we here at Idol Chatter have. Everyone from Michael Buble to Wil.I.Am have recorded this little wonderous ode to new beginnings and all that sh*t! And really y’all, we do like this ditty, yes we do! And frankly, we feel the words just might be appropriate given all the news that has been surrounding this fast fading juggernaut called Idol.

Now listen real fast kids because we’ve got a bunch to say and damn near little time to say it in.

Ok, we all know that Drunk Paula ain’t comin back no mo, no mo, no mo, no mo. We’ve cried in our beer and felt like someone pissed in our Wheaties over the loss of this adult imbecile who couldn’t give constructive criticism to her cat let alone some sangers who were tryin their damnedest to hit the “big time” (and can we just say here that the “big time” really ain’t it all cracked up to be…we should know after spending 9 long years in this little microcosm called Holly-weird!). Heck, over a cajun spiced tuna steak salad at the wildly-popular-with-the-stars Katsuya, with that metrosexual of metrosexuals, we threatened to discontinue our watchin and writin about what has been heretofore, our favorite damn show on the tee-vee unless Drunk Paula was given her dues and rightfully brought back to the damn judges table. Apparently though all we are good for is picking up the damn tab…like that big and shiny toothed metro-sexual doesn’t make enough damn money to pic up the tab. Drunk Paula’s gone ya’ll and there ain’t a damn thing gonna be done about it so, suck it up.

Now listen here, just about the time we had done written off this damn karaoke show that drives all the little girls (and boys although only about 10% of them if you get my drift) plumb crazy, along comes news that a new judge was being added to round out the table to four once again. We here at Idol Chatter laughed out loud just a little to think how pissed off that damn Kara person must have been to know that she wouldn’t be the only female judge at the table. We do not like Kara not then, not now, not ever! But we’ve digressed.

Anyhoo, word came rather covertly up to our little walled and gated fortress like casa high in the hills over Hollywood that hip and recently married lezbian, Ellen DeGeneres would be rounding out the judges table. Now listen here kids, we nearly wet ourselves without any damn shame when we heard them words. Lawd, a small majority of Californians may have cheated the good gays and lesbians out of their right to live in some kind of marital bliss but, Miss Ellen and her lady-mate figured out a work-around for that one and now the very [legally] married Miss Ellen will be right there for all the good boys and girls to see giving her opinions that we all know will be a damn lot more coherent and constructive than anything that ever fell out of Drunk Paula’s mouth. Hell, she’ll probably make more sense than Randy and Kara combined. Oh lawd, after this great news, we determined right then and there to watch this show on the regular once again!

And kids, that’s where things have stayed until today when we opened up a copy of some newspaper and saw confirmed what we’ve been hearing from every-damn-body up and down the Sunset Strip. Yup, acerbic mouthed Simon is leavin! Straight up!

Damn that driver of mine…blowin the horn like he was in a hurry! Need to remember who writes out those checks that he hurriedly deposits. Any-hoo, despite all that clattering I really must finish this up.

We MAY have threatened before, but this is not a threat. We WILL watch American Idol this season and it WILL be our last season! So, enjoy hanging out with our loud and foul-mouthed (and more often than not drunk) self for this one last season. After that we’ll be on to bigger and better things!

Bring it on bitches!

Just one?

January 15, 2009

Due to circumstances far beyond my control, namely my hometown hoops team playing on the road in San Antonio, I could not be bothered to watch that train-wreck that we call Idol. No, I could not! At least not for the first half hour or so. I was however receiving text messages from the good Professor discussing the “hotness” of various of the frauds calling themselves contestants. Apparently, and according to the Professor…

Casey Carlson’s a hottie

Jamar sucks! Ew! Horrible

Castro’s little bro is F’ing hot (errr, wait, that one might have belonged to me)

I also received this communique from the Professor…

O…M…Fing…God…Um…just the whole thing. Love the whole thing because it’s so terrible.

Now see, I was too busy watching my hometown hoops team put on a might display and master’s degree class on the courts of San Antonio while still managing to loose by one freakin point to be bothered (am I repeating myself). I will say that pink hair aside, I liked me some Castro boy. You’ll recall last season that little Mr. Jason Castro strummed my heart strings and sent all sorts of naughty thoughts a rippin and a floatin through my fair head. Should little bro make it on through, one can imagine the state of ecstasy I’ll find myself in. Lawd have mercy!!

Apparently, Kansas City (a city I unfortunately know too much about) brought us at least one contestant who, if Mr. Randy Jackson is to be believed, sounds like a cross between Fantasia and Mary J. Blige. Now kids, I heard that songstress myself and couldn’t agree more with Mr. Jackson. I’m lookin for this rockin hot mamma to be in our final 12 and, if she doesn’t screw the pooch, may even be in the finals.

Mr. Metrosexual, Ryan Seacrest, informed us of course (as he does each season) that this was the most talented season so far. But, we’ve only seen one performer who might fit that bill. Will Hollywood week reveal more talent or, is it just a gimmick? We shall see!

And now, I’m off to work on my hangover! Lawd kids, the head is a poundin like it was a ball being manhandled by number 24!


March 25, 2008

I have spent the greater part of my day trying to extricate the good Dr. P. Haze from the long arms of the law and have arrived home just in time to plunk my tired ass down in front of the boob tube and hear Ryan say “thiiiis iiiis American Idol!” Now kiddies, I’m jus’ plum tuckered out and I ain’t got it in me to sit and soliloquize on and on about this hot mess that mesmerizes us week after week. I just can’t! A word of caution here kiddies, even in such a magnificently progressive state as the left leaning state in which I live, law enforcement takes a rather dim view of those who specialize in the treatment of sick folks (real or imagined) with herbal remedies. They don’t like it one bit. But, we aren’t here to talk about the legality of rendering services to heal the sick (real or imagined). We’re here to talk about the top 10 finalists.

Having watched the show front to back, start to finish, with the good Dr. by my side (and awake…a true miracle), I must say that we’ve got a good crop this year. Being as I was too tired to find the liquor cabinet, I’m saying that sober as a judge. Damn good bunch of kiddies that don’t need the good Dr.’s services to settle their frazzled nerves. They’re workin it out!

I can’t say I was too thrilled by little Ramiele’s version of one of my favorite songs from the high school days. But it wasn’t a total mess. I absolutely adored my boy Jason’s rendition of Fragile. Sayesha didn’t stand out, but didn’t suck. The same could be said for just about all of those loud-mouth attention seekers we’re calling contestants this year.

Well, almost all – I absolutely wanted to heave when Chikezie sang. Bleck!!! Elfin-boy, David Archuleta sang a song I use to love back in the day (geebus I’m getting old) and he did a right nice job (even if his daddy chose the song for him). The good Dr. just loves little David to death and, given my frame of mind regarding the good Dr. at the moment, I’d rather like to see little elfin-boy sent packin right now…but alas, the world just doesn’t revolve around me. Truth be told though, I’m rather fond of the good Dr. so perhaps, just perhaps, we’ll let little David stay around for one more week.

Like I said, I’m really not in any mood to sit here and whack out a rehashing of what we’ve all just witnessed. Just can’t…not in me. But before I toddle off to beddy-bye, I do need to talk about the size of David Cook’s balls. Huge! Monstrous! The size of the watermelons growing in my dear, sweet grandmother’s garden. If I’m being honest (and you know I always am), I did not like Mr. Cook back in Hollywood days. That greasy shock of hair – that smug mug. Just. Did. Not. Like. Him. Then he twisted Lionel Ritchie’s classic “Hello” and I fell in l-o-v-e! The good Dr. loves Michael Jackson (as does our little progeny)! In fact, our little guy has a HUGE poster of The White Lady (as my dear friend Mama over at The Real Estalker loves to call her) hanging in his room. I mean MJ has been off the scene for how long, and my little guy still wants to imitate him. That shows just how much influence MJ has over music! HUGE! But still no-where near as HUGE as the balls that Mr. David Cook is in possession of. How that man manages to fit those skin-tight jeans of his over those balls is beyond me. I mean, to take a classic like Billie Jean and rework it..balls!

The lesson for today kiddies has nothing to do with the good Dr. and herbal legality issues. The lesson today is that there is a difference between having balls and being ballsy! Mr. David Cook is one ballsy dude! When his CD comes out, it damn well better have this version of Billie Jean on it!

And with that lesson out the box, I’m off to follow the good Dr. and our progeny to bed! Sleep tight y’all! Don’t let the bed bugs bite!

Oh crap ya’ll – I forgot to mention that Mr. Cook is not the only one with some big ole’ balls! Seems the other Cook in the competition has some pretty damn big ones herself! That twangy temptress, Ms. Kristy Lee Cook has been vocally challenged since we hit the top 12. Pretty much a damn train wreck. Tonight though, she dusted off her balls, put on her big girl pants and sang Lee Greenwood’s song God Bless The USA! (she did a very presentable job). The real genius behind that was the choice of songs. Red Necks in every one of the red states, now feel like they’ve got the whole ball o’ wax with her – she’s hot and she a true patriot – Go Red. Go White. Go Blue. You go girl!! Ya did your thang!

UPDATE – 3/26/08

You’re outta here –

That fella with the one name – Chikezie – The world breathes a collective sigh of relief!