I was having trouble getting into this season of Idol, and for a while, I thought the problem was me. Like a jilted lover now on the rebound, maybe I was ready to window shop, but not quite buy. The merchandise all seemed okay at first glance, but nothing really caught my eye. Though I was loathe to admit it, maybe I was still harboring a deep crush on wallet chains, whispered boob jobs, bad teeth, and epileptic seizures. Though I rarely dared to invoke their names -- which fits quite nicely with the official theme of AI this season -- Taylor WHO? -- all their affectations still had my affections.
But last night puts that sad, forlorn theory to rest. Truly, it's not me. It's them. They suck. I can't fall in love, or even in like, with any of these himbos because they're crappy and boring.
Okay, okay, Blake is fine. I dig him doing the "All Mixed Up" and flashing his tats and beat boxing to some reggae and trotting his fine ass around the stage. Blake can stay.
AJ rates Blake's performance the best of the night.
Chris Sligh, he can sing. He's definitely got a proclivity for really crappy songs and he's already tenderized his previously slightly spiky personality more effectively than Bobby Flay going at a flank steak with a metal hammer. Just pounded himself down into a mushy, floppy mess. But there's always hope that we can season him up with some pepper and barbeque sauce and get him all fired up once he gets back on the grill of the big stage again. (see that? A barbeque metaphor. Although I'm talking of Sligh, it makes you think of Taylor eating ribs, doesn't it? He's never mentioned, but he's never quite out of mind.)
The judges? They said four guys deserve to go to the finals. Fucking -- WHO? Sundance with his crappy faux-hawk coming out and desecrating Pear Jam's "Jeremy," singing about a little "punk" to please the censors? What the fuck, Eddie Vedder? WHY? Why did you allow that to happen?
Who do you want to see in the final 12? Vaguely creepy Phil Stacy? Hula dancing Sanjaya? Self-loving Chris Richardson? Still boring Brandon? Or even more boring Jared? I'm telling you -- they suck. They suck intensely because they're even lacking the ability to sink to a level of suckage that's laughable. They're just like intravenous Ambien in their middling suckitude. I hate them. I hate them all. But it's not even a burning, resentful hatred. It's just a mildly disgusted, waste of my time hatred. It's kind of like I started dating a rebound guy and he's not abusive or even rude and there's nothing specifically wrong with him, but there's just not a single thing right about him either. The relationship isn't going anywhere, but rules of etiquette dictate that I have to drag him along for so long or wait for him to fuck up before I can dump him. It's just exhausting in its boringness.
And it's when you're in this restless kind of state that all your exes suddenly seem so much more appealing. I admit it -- right now, I'd consider the TV equivalent of a late-night booty call with Constantine Maroulis heaven.
In other words -- it's time, FOX. It's time for the All-Star American Idol where we trot out the losers and give them another shot.
Heaven's sake -- you could even appease Frenchie that way! Oh yeah, bring her back! I'm all for the love there.
Because that is how I'm getting my few kicks these days -- from swinging with the ladies. I'm not particularly attracted to any of them, but I can't resist the smutty, snakey vibe of Antonella. Thank God for Antonella. Now THAT'S how you do bad, boys. She's elevated suck to a new level this year. Shitty performances, whiffs of entitled, bratty behavior, scandalous photos, and now a whole fucking race riot is brewing! She's already earned her spot in the All-Stars reunion show. I'll watch and be happy -- as long as she brings her hot father with her.
How sad is that state of affairs? 16 potential "stars" taking the stage this week and the only person who trips my triggers is in the audience.
After a breakup, someone's supposed to hand you the tired platitude that there are a lot of fish in the sea. Now, we know that's just not true anymore. But are you telling me that Sundance and Sanjaya are the quality we're supposed to aim for?
AJ would not be happy. This show last night -- and the general state of men this year -- gets the lowest AJ rating.
(AJ is still polite, so he at least applauds politely, but the look of lethargic apathy is evident.)