Salt Lake Sh*tty

January 29, 2009

There is nothing more I can add to this TMZ headline. Really and seriously kids, David Archuleta’s clone was not to be found. The caterwauling and hee-hawing that emanated from the big-ass TeeVee in my cozy living room high in the hills above Hollywood was enough to make my dog run with tail between legs. While there were a couple of little frauds who might, maybe, be in our top 12, it’s hard to say that with a straight face based off of what we saw last night.

Tonight we will be visiting San Juan and from the clips, I expect it to be an awful night…again. Good gawd, this part of the season is predictable, indulgent and boring. Were I chosen to do up and do over this bloated and mundane show we call Idol, I would whittle down all these city visits to just ONE damn show! There.Is.No.Reason.For.This.Sh*t! Or maybe I’m just in a pissy mood!

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Rumble?

May 20, 2008

Continuing with their theme of over-indulgent mediocrity, which has been raised to a level heretofor unprecedented in Idol history, American Idol decided to “treat” we the viewers to boxing comparisons.  Yaawwnn!  The good Farmacist, Dr. P. Haze, and I put on our best duds, spiffed up the Progeny and trecked over to the Nokia for the first part of the big finale.  The people were beautiful, the Nokia gussied up beyond good taste and, well, reality was no where to be found.

Following previous seasons, the first round number was chosen by Clive Davis.  Now, Mr. Davis may have the “golden ear”, of that I have no doubt.  But he’s old and his song selection reflected his antiquity.  Both Davids performed their numbers with gusto, but, if I’m being honest (and we know I always am), David Cook ended his portion of the competition last week.  Heck, he pretty much said so himself.   That’s not to say he sucked, because he didn’t.  He was just outsung by little eflin boy David Archuleta.

In fact, all three rounds were dominated by little David…Archuleta.  And, can I just say, that this idea of letting people “write” songs for the finale and then have the contestants sing them is something the producers should reconsider.  Every year these songs have sucked, sucked, sucked!  Tonight was absolutely no different.  These were not songs I, or any other music loving person, would enjoy hearing on the regular!

Round three allowed the boys to choose their own song.  Like Simon, I was hoping the hear Billie Jean from Cook.  Contestants have done this in the past, reprising their best performances from the season.  However, I’m glad he didn’t.  He showed, to me anyway, that he’s an evolving artist that doesn’t need to rely on a “greatest hits” album to win the show.  While it would have been nice to have heard one of these numbers,  he did a brilliant job with the one he performed. 

Little David, of course, went the opposite way reprising his performance of Imagine.  Once again, he left out parts of the number and, while performing beautifully, ruined the song for me.  You know, I’m tired of the comparison of little David and the phone book.  It’s not a good comparison.

Unlike Simon, I can’t say that eflin boy David landed any knock-out punches.  Maybe it was the lushness that is the Nokia.  Maybe it’s because I’m trying to whack this out in the back of a lovely towncar with the Progeny’s head resting gently on my shoulder as he slumbers.  Maybe it’s because my chat earlier in the evening with D.C. Vodkalips reminded me of just how much I don’t care.  Whatever the reason, tonight just didn’t ring bells for me.  Which is too bad!

I can’t pick a winner.  They were both capable in their own way.  The rumble at the Nokia was much more like a tiptoe through the tulips;  Pretty, capable, sickeningly sweet.  The boxing comparison, the choosing of Sir Andrew Lloyd Weber, showed once again just how out of touch to reality this “reality” show has become.  The winner is irrelevant because “they’re both already winners!”  Which makes all of the hoopla just a bunch of hot air. 


David squared

May 14, 2008

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!


Isn’t it ironic?

May 13, 2008

No, no one sang the above mentioned Alanis Morrisett song – thankfully! What’s ironic is that I find myself done with this season of American Idol and it’s a full week before the Grand Finale. That’s some sort of record. The show has gotten predictable and, if I’m being honest, which we know I always am, just plain boring. Frankly, I was far more interested in the big ass steaks the progeny and I were grilling than what these semi-lovable frauds had on their song lists for the night. In fact, so enthralled were we with the grilling of the big ass steaks and a fine chat with the young neighbor from across the fence that we missed the entire first third of the night – the sad part is that I didn’t feel like I missed much.

The second part of the show was devoted to waking the good Farmacist, Dr. P. Haze and then eating our big ass steaks, along with some lovely rice pilaf and some tender, buttery, sweet corn-on-the-cob. Between bites and gasps for air, we managed to catch a wee bit of the “contestant’s choice” songs of the night. The progeny even joined elfin boy David Archuletta in singing along to Chris Brown’s little ditty after which he intoned that little David was NO Chris Brown! I couldn’t have agreed more! Sayesha showed that she is ready for Broadway with her rendition of Fever. Don’t know what Paula was thinking because Sayesha for sure showed that she is the next American Broadway Idol – and the world rejoiced. Don’t know what the heck it was that David Cook sang but…bleck!

Third round again found me a little too busy to pay attention. Grilling big ass steaks, cooking up mountains of rice and making the perfect corn-on-the-cob comes with a great price – dirty dishes! Now usually I would forgo the voluminous mess in favor of watching the hot mess we call Idol, but frankly tonight, I found myself more interested in dish duty than paying attention to these frauds. This third round was producers choice and it quickly became apparent something we’ve known practically this whole damn season – the producers are completely out of touch! The song chosen for elfin boy David, why by the way, and if every last news report is to be believed, is daddy less when backstage now, was gawd awful. As the judges noted, this boy could sing the phone book and I agree – but why remind us of that little fact? I have a theory – the theory is that the producers were doing their best to shut elfin boy David out of the Grand Finale. I think they would like Sayesha and David Cook at the big show. Speaking of these two idiots, they performed their third round numbers quite nicely.

Following the show, and when I should have felt inclined to vote for someone, I instead rang up the ever-so intoxicated D.C. Vodkalips. She, like me, is completely over this season. And I believed her. Wanna know why? Of course you do, silly question. In seasons past, Ms. Vodkalips would have been sending up smoke signals from her phone – by three minutes after 9p (which is the exact time I called), she would be well on her way to 100 dials for her choice (she’s picked every winner so far!). But last night, at 9:03, the first shock was that I got through. The second shock was that I was NOT told to hang the [insert favorite expletive here] up and VOTE, VOTE, VOTE. In fact, we had a nice leisurely conversation lasting for nine minutes and fifty-eight seconds according to my trust digital phone. It was during this phone call that Ms. Vodkalips told me she had voted for the winner – but only 17 times. Shocking! Well, maybe not to you, but to me it was absolutely mind-blowing that this hysterical Swedish alcoholic just had given up. But in my heart, I agreed! I don’t know what the future holds over at the Kodak next week. I do know that the winner will be…drum roll please…DAVID COOK!

Now, I’ve got to wrap this up because Chef Ramsey is seriously slamming sh*t around over there in Hell’s Kitchen. Heck, he’s gotten so irate that the good Farmacist is sitting up and in rapt attention – gotta go!


Crushing the Bob’s!

May 6, 2008

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?

April 29, 2008

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!

April 22, 2008

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!