Against my better judgment, I just watched “American Idol“. I had never seen it before, didn’t intend to, but finally curiosity got the best of me, and I found myself witnessing this thing.
I wasn’t expecting it to be as bad as it was. Even though a friend had warned me, moments before turning it on, that it was not going to be the “good” kind of bad that I like, I still forged ahead.
I want my hour back.
The judges. My god, what can I say that probably hasn’t already been said. Some oversized bald black guy named R.J. who was trying a little too hard to appear easy-going. Paula Abdul, looking like the long-lost quadruplet of Michael, Janet, and LaToya. And Simon. What the HELL. All I can say is that Simon must have the smallest penis this size of my pinkie. How anyone can actually take what Simon says seriously is beyond me. He of the overblown jaw, squirrelish hair, and flabby triceps (as seen on “Live With Regis and Kelly” earlier this week).
And the so-called performers? Oh, I don’t even know where to start. And because I don’t want to relive the absolute horror, I will merely touch on each.
- Kelly: Leave the bobble-head action to the dogs that line the back windows of trashy cars. “Walk On By”? I suggest you do.
- R.J.: You seem like a really sweet kid. But haven’t I heard your brand of warbling behind me on many a city street, the accompaniment to a song on a CD in someone’s Walkman? And really — the theme from “Arthur”? Is that really the best that you can do?
- Tamyra: I don’t think your performance of “A House Is Not A Home” warranted the standing ovation and teary eyes that Paula Abdul awarded it, but you were quite good. However, when Simon told you that your performance was one of the best things he has ever seen on TV — right up there with Whitney Houston and Celine Dion — please remember that he basically admitted to wanting to get into your pants on “Live With Regis and Kelly” earlier this week. Please don’t let his flattery get him anywhere.
- Justin: I honestly don’t know what all the fuss is about you. I don’t get it. Unruly hair, a jaw that could double for the pants of SpongeBob, scrawny legs that can barely fill out your leather pants. Plus your attempt to seduce the audience with your direct stare into the camera left me more dry than high. I can’t even remember what you sang. Next!
- Nikki: The karaoke competition was last night, on a cable channel, in the form of the horrid movie, “Duets”. R.J. was right when he said that you reminded him of someone from “The Wedding Singer”. And what were you thinking by not only choosing “Always Something There To Remind Me” but changing the line “How can I forget you girl” to “How can I forget you boy”? Oh my. Boy oh boy, in five minutes, I will have already forgotten you, girl.
I hate myself for watching this tripe, but of course I’ll be tuning in tomorrow night for what I think is the finale. But there really is no contest. It’s black and white. The winner will be Tamyra Gray.
And not just because Simon says.