Last night the Idol producers decided to give a big surge to the womyn’s equality movement by acknowledging that women actually write music. Who knew Carol King wrote music? But not to worry! They brought in a man to guide the Idolettes. I love you, Babyface, and you gave some good direction but could you have chosen better songs for these chickadees? Maybe ones that people born after 1976 have heard? There are none? I see.
Because there are only six singtestants left and a full four hours to fill, they decided to pair up the remaining Idols for some amazeballs duets. Hmmm, now who would sing with Lauren? Who would sing with Fozzie Bear? Most importantly, who would sing with screamer and the Divo? These are complicated questions which were quickly answered – terribly, horribly and mercilessly. So out trot our idols singing lady-themed songs. I am woman, hear me roar (not even the fun rawr).
Fozzie and Sassy did a little cool-cat, yeah-man, scattle-dee-do jazz version of something while she ran around the stage like Flo-Jo. Trisha Yearwood, Jr. and Baby Lock Them Doors sang some underage type thing with a TWANG. But the worst was this trainwreck at the corner of Bleeding Ears Avenue and TV Shattering Drive.
They all performed individually as well, which is what we were supposed to be judging (as if the pain of the duets would just fade away).
The Joan Obsorn-Natasha Beningfield knock-off that The Old Lady can’t keep his keep long paws off of is now, unbelievably, the leader of the pack. Sassy dress? Yes? Sassy attitude? You got it. Technical difficulties? Don’t sass me, Seabiscuit, I got this! At least she is the only one that deserves to, at this point. She has the confidence of Rachel Berry (I will hold your hair as you puke) and as much talent as any other singtestant this year.
I feel like this James cat is a Stephon sketch in disguise. He’s screechy and squinty and wears chains and probably says “hiiiiiii-yah!” like Miss Piggy all the time. He got all emo with his guitar but like a good Adam Lampert clone, he ended it with a high note. Not a good note – a high note. Give it a rest, already. I know Randy thinks you’re all in it to win it and everything but he’s been glued to that chair for ten years. It’s clear he has run out of words.
Country crooner Alfred E. Newman sat on The Staircase to Nowhere and asked for some friends. Because he will be there. He will. He will hold your hand like it’s a rare and delicate Hummel. Why couldn’t some crazed “fan” have run up on the stage and just pushed him off that staircase and into the deep abyss that was just behind him. NOT that I’m wishing him harm, just, you know, to be disappeared.
Whose idea was it to have the SIXTEEN year-old girl grab a NINETEEN year-old guy from the audience so she could stand over him sanging while he moved his up-skirt mirror ever so slightly to the right. But she is a love ’em and leave ’em type based on her performance because as soon as she pulled him up on the stage, she beat feet like he was covered in Axe spray (and he probably was). Miss Lauren tried real hard, like, Miley Cyrus hard, to look older and hit those high notes and it was was successful as any Miley Cyrus effort.
Okay look, Fozzie Bear. Everyone else thinks you are such a special snowflake but let me ask you this, where is Taylor Hicks today? Go ahead and look, I’ll wait. Yeah, last I saw he was inexplicably on the Jimmy Fallon Show singing Rebecca Taylor’s “Friday.” Yes, he was there with Jimmy and The Roots and Stephen Colbert, but they all had shows to go back to whereas he went back to his friend’s couch that he crashes on while he plays “gigs” in coffee shops. This is your future.
May 21st can’t come soon enough if Jacob Lusk doesn’t get voted off tonight. Watching him hop around in a clown suit whilst signing a song that no one who is not a 55 year old hippie has heard was torture. Has he ever seen himself sing? What am I saying? Of course he has. I’m sure his mother pulled his crib up to a mirror so he could make his “O” faces while singing “Man in the Mirror.”
Bottom Two? Three?: Jacob, Jacob Lusk. J. Lusk
UPDATE:
Oh my land! Where to start? Apparently there is a homeless grandmother who now has nothing to wear because both Old Lady Paula and Crystal Methmouth Veneers stole everything she owns. Maybe the hat was a salute to the Royal Wedding tomorrow/today. Anyway, we dimmed the lights as the little Seacretin demands every Thursday night. Once, just once, I want to person in charge of the lights to turn them all the way up and like an ant in the sun under a magnifying glass, Seacretin will burst into flames (heh).
No bottom two or three tonight, just one up, one down. First to be home safe Mariah, Jr. Second up, Baby Lock Them Doors – not so fast. Lauren – come on up and wait. Fozzie Bear – wasn’t safe, was he…yet. Stefon sketch – safer than Kate Middleton’s financial future (learn from Fergie, Kate!). Lauren – go sit down. You and your perm (well, maybe not that perm) are safe.
Here comes that crutie Bruno Mars. Did I see Ryan trying to pretend he was in the band? Back to the action IN RANDOM ORDER…Here’s hoping The Rapture is on fast forward because Jacob is safe. Down to Fozzie and Country Crooner AAAAAANNNNND Fozzie gets sent home (again). America really wasn’t feeling the floating gingerbread-head as much as the judges. His crazy eyed, MMMMMMMing growls just scared the moms across the country as they imagined their daughters getting caught at prom with this unassuming young man and coming home not the same delicate flower they were when they left. I don’t know where or how or why we will see Casey again, but I give him this parting thought – MMMMMMMMM!!!!