Yeay! It’s results Showtime! It’s 9.07 and I already have filled a quarter of a page with the opening cheese, the group performance, the one that all the contestants probably hate with all the intensity of a thousand burning suns, but that they have to put up with regardless, all fake smiles and silly dance steps. I’m sure my man David Cook loves this shit; poor guy probably already gave himself a severe headache what with all the eye rolling he must involuntarily be doing. I bet that’s why they often put him in the back for the group crap. Well, that and he’s tall.
I really could talk about David Cook all day, but ok, Rachel, focus…
So it’s the result show. Which starts with a whole bunch of cute CGI critters, which I originally thought were from Shrek, until I realized that they are in fact from some shit that Fox is shamelessly plugging. More on that later.
And said critters are all bunching up to watch Idol, in case you were wondering.
We are live, in case you were wondering about that too.
Ryan appears. Then shits on the stage and disappears. No, that’s not quite it unfortunately, but they should think about it for the future. It would make for a far more interesting filler than say, Ford commercials. People, let’s make this happen and spam Idol!
Anyway. Ryan tells us about last night’s 29 millions votes, all from the same six people. I’m just kidding.
Oh, what do we have here? Or who, rather? It’s Jim Carrey! Dressed as an elephant! But of course! And why, my dear Jim, are you dressed as an elephant, may I ask, although I don’t really want to?
“Well,” says Jim, “I’m here to pimp that fucking Fox movie, of course! Why else do you think I’d be wearing this crap? I suggested they get a full costume with mask and all, and plop some substitute in it, but these cheap assholes said no. So there I am. But enough about that. How are you doing?”
“Well, I’m alright, thanks for asking. How’s Jenny?”
“She’s good. Oh, we got a puppy! She’s adorable. We’ve called her Ramiele. Oops, I think we’re still on the air…”
“Oh, shit, yeah. Well, it was nice talking to you, Jim. Say hi to Jen!”
Well, that killed a good minute and a half.
We find out that more Beatles are on the menu next week. Wittle David must be shitting himself and considering doing that Beatles song that goes “She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah!” or that other one that goes “Ob-la-di, ob-la-da, life goes on, bra” because he thinks he will be able to remember the lyrics.
Cheese time! The group performance!
Starts with “All my lovin'”, which, upon hearing, could have been a good song choice for Kristy. Oh my God, what’s with me and Kristy these days? I normally hate generic blondes, so WTF?
Then it’s “I feel fine” and it’s still cheesy, and they’re all doing this little dance routine and I’m sure that at least half of them are fucking hating it right now. Then my David sings and I get a rush, and OMG he’s so hot, and he’s wearing a hat, and the last few words have a lot of Hs. But it’s not only that’s he’s as hot as a erupting volcano, I really really do love his voice. No shit.
Then shot on Jim Carrey the elephant. If you want to know what the hell it is that he’s plugging, just Google it, I really can’t be asked. But I’m sure he plays an elephant in it.
“Can’t buy me love”. Wittle David remembers his lyrics. Well I think, he could have just mumbled his way through that “no no no, nooo!” bit, and we wouldn’t know, what with all the little girls shrieking.
For some reason, I bothered taking notes about which contestants got the most shrieking, so I’ll share that. Chikezie got some shrieking. I drew a heart next to Amanda’s name, so it must mean that I liked her. Oh, yeah, it’s coming back to me again, I did. Actually, Amanda’s starting to grow on me again, she’s been good the last couple of weeks.
More Wittle David, more female mass hysteria, then the trend goes on with Michael Australia, then, hey, while we’re here, why not sneak in another shot of Jim C. Elephant?
“Help!” Very circumstantial song, since somebody here sure will need some. Jason and Brooke should really think about getting together and doing it, because they would make very cute babies. Ramiele and Michael Australia never could do it together though. Size-wise, it wouldn’t work. (Well, it might work for him.) He looks like a tree when standing next to her.
HEY, look who’s here!!! SANJAYA! The mighty, the great, Idol’s ultimate splinter in the foot! I wave at him: “Hey, man, what’s up?!”
“I’m great! You?”
I give him the thumbs up, because I can’t hear him very well with the music that is still going.
“We’re looking down the barrel… something”, says Ryan gloomily, when we come back from commercials.
It’s recaps from yesterday’s show. For more about yesterday’s show, you can just read my recap from yesterday’s show. It’s really good, I heard.
Regardless, I took notes for that too. Well, who seemed to me to get the most airtime.
They showed a good bit of Chikezie’s performance, they replayed the moment when Simon says he totally wants to bang Carly when he commemorates Kelly Clarkson’s same day blah (it’s all about subtext, people).
We see Syesha, then Jason (females shriek). Then we see one of the 19 wonderful moments from last night when Simon and Ryan were bickering. Then a quick Ramiele, then a long Kristy. Actually, more of a long judges telling Kristy how much she sucks and should become a beautician after she gets out of here tomorrow night. Then more Simon and Ryan bickering.
Listen you guys, this is getting repetitive. It’s obvious that these two morons are gonna be bickering the whole season, and they’re gonna be showing us a lot of it. They’ve already started to re-show it, and this is only the beginning, you see… So we’ll have a code word: from now on, when Simon and Ryan will be bickering, I’ll write RYON. Got it? Okie dokie then.
Moving along the recap of today’s recap of last night’s show, (what a fucking waste of time this is!…) they replay, for our collective pleasure, Wittle David fucking up his lyrics again, and the judges being all “No, no, no, it wasn’t good, David, but it really doesn’t matter, now run along and see you next week”.
Then AHHHH, my David is back again to close off this repeat of half of last night’s show. And he’s the awesomest of the awesomes and I’m losing my French just thinking about it. I have to download that song.
Ah, finally, the results. I was wondering why I was watching this cheese fest again.
So the victims are all sitting down, waiting for the verdict. Carly, Jason, Aussie Mike and Syesha’s naps are interrupted by Ryan. “Get up, you assholes.” They do. Carly gets a bit of a workout as she gets to sit right back down. Then Ryan fucks around with Michael Australia, until he’s told to sit down too. “You’re a fucking dick, Ryan!” Michael shouts. “Up yours, you prick!” Ryan retorts. And then they get into a fight, shit on the stage, then leave with some topless dancers. They grab David Cook on the way, and ask Brooke if she wants to tag along, just for a laugh. She says she would, but she’s waiting for the results, can she hook up with them later? David asks Brooke if she can stick around long enough to find out if he’s made it to next week and then text him, and then he splits with the other two and the topless chicks. “Hey!” Carly exclaims, “I’m safe, I’m outta here! I’m coming with you guys! Hasta la vista, motherfuckers!” She gives the judges the finger and leaves.
Ah, we wish, don’t we…
Syesha is visibly shitting herself, and I don’t blame her. Jason (whose the mere mention of the name starts a wave of oestrogen fuelled hysteria) is safe. Syesha isn’t. Awww, I feel bad for her, she had a tough job last night. Opening the show is never easy, and especially last night, which was their first night on the big stage with all the smoke, the lights, the disco balls, etc. So I say, give her a break. We’ll get her next week.
Ryan quizzes the judges as to whether or not Syesha deserves to be here; Randy and Paula say no. Simon says yes. Ryan says that was an uncomfortable moment. Duh. Syesha, kick him for me please, you’re much closer.
Huh, they get them to sing right after the first kick in the ass now? Was it always like this? Regardless, Syesha sings. When she starts off, her voice is a bit shaky, but she gets herself together pretty quickly, and I actually find her better than last night. I’m even dancing a little while I’m watering the plants. I genuinely hope she’s ok, cos’ it’s starting to look like they’re trying to sabotage the poor girl. Last night, she went first on the big stage Ryan had just spent 18 minutes making a fuss about, and the previous week, they slap her completely at the end of the show, eat up her airtime arguing and barely give her a criticism. I smell a conspiracy. Let’s make a documentary, fuck! Who’s with me?
WTF commercial was that? That was for Ford? I was so distracted, I didn’t notice. Some kinda of super-lame-o electoral campaign set-up (because it’s true that we don’t get nowhere near enough politics these days), with the Idols all dressed up, the men in suits (and I cannot help noticing that My David (see note 1a) looks nice in a suit). Good to know when we get married. In a next life. And the girls wear suits too, and everybody looks super-formal, and it’s all just really stupid. I find. It’ll be on YouTube, just go find it and then get back to me.
Note 1a) I’m using My with a capital M from now on; that Means that My David is now officially Mine. So back off, bitches
When we come back, we see that Syesha has been relegated in a dark corner of the stage and that she looks petrified, like if a big trapdoor was just about to open up under her seat or something. That’s for later, honey, when you get backstage. Right now they still need you around to cry on camera, should you get the boot.
Idol interviews, clips, slide shows, more filler. The contestants all say the same thing, which is essentially that they’re realizing their dream and it’s all really wonderful for everyone besides Syesha who’s still thinking about the trapdoor below her. “A day in the life” is the musical superior wine that accompanies that very very mild cheese. We see My David who must be quite an expensive contestant to keep around, because he’s smashing another guitar, which looks very similar to the one he smashed yesterday. Well, at least, he smashes acoustic, it’s cheaper. We see, oh, what a surprise, Jim C. Elephant, as well as Steve Carell. Amanda says she is lost; I don’t recall, but it’s in my notes.
Ryan tells the moment everyone didn’t give a flying fuck about is just ahead: the call-in! Yeay! Confetti!
Before the stupid questions, more slashing. Ryan wakes Chikezie, Amanda, Kristy and My David. He tells Chikezie to come down the center of the stage, looks out for sweat on Chikezie’s brow, then sends him back up. Stupid fuck. Ryan, I mean. Amanda has straightened her hair, it seems, or at least told it to behave. I like it. She’s safe. My David is so magnificently hot. And he’s also safe. I might have missed something here, but it seems to me that Kristy was reaching for the Microphone of Death before Ryan told her that she was allowed to, and that’s like bad. He punches her on the nose, tells her to stop fucking giggling, then tells her to grab the Mike Of Death before she can go join Syesha above the big trapdoor.
Poor Kristy’ s got enough humour to joke that she’s sorry to force America to hear a second time a song that everyone hated, apart from me, Emily, and Diablo from IMDB. And even the second time around, I don’t hate it. She does some weirdish moves here and there and… did she get hair extensions? Seems to me her hair has grown four inches overnight. Anyway. Sanjaya likes her too, he’s standing, dancing, clapping, he looks happy. Maybe he and Kristy could get together after the show and make babies. I wonder what kind of babies they would make… Dark haired, dark skinned, blue eyed, that would be cool. I’ll email them.
Kristy is done, but visibly, Simon isn’t; he still thinks that the whole thing stinks and that Kristy should be skinned for attempting to countryfy that song.
Now it’s the call-in. I was so looking forward to it that I had to tell my brain to forget it was coming so that I wouldn’t get too distracted and accidentally fall in the toilet during the commercial break.
Some questions appear on the screen, and Ryan pretends to pick one. On line one, we have Page. “Hello Page, I’m Dr. Frasier Crane and I’m listening.” Shit, sorry, wrong show.
Page wants to know what judge Jason would be if didn’t have any talent. Jason giggles and says not Paula because she’s a girl, then Ryan replies for him that Jason would be an hybrid of the three. Jason has to agree because they’ve already cut off his mike. Bye-bye Page, that was really enlightening, girl.
On line 2, we have Ronnie, an American Idol leech who has auditioned no less than 6 times and should really let it go, but nah. He offers to sing, then decides he’s better not to if he doesn’t want a “technical problem” to occur, one that sounds like “Click”. So he asks the judges for advice. Why do they put morons like this through, I’d like to know. We’ve probably seen him 6 times, once every year during the 14 weeks of auditions that they show us. Simon tells him to get another job (not a bad idea). Paula tells him to keep singing right straight to Simon or some nonsense like that, with which Simon vehemently disagrees.
Then John wants to know why the hell don’t Ryan and Simon just duke it out on the stage already instead of costing Syesha more precious minutes of airtime, and that’s a damn good question, for which I already congratulated John on the message board.
Ryan says to bring in the mud, and methinks that if he made babies with Paula… Well he shouldn’t. Poor kids. Give them 16 years and you’d find them auditioning for American Idol 6 years in a row.
Line 5 is… Shit, what happened? I blinked. K, I’ll be right back.
According to my internets, line 5 said that Simon was sexy and that is totally unacceptable. My David has this disorder where he loses his shit when he hears that he’s not the hottest guy in the room, and it makes him smash guitars.
So Ryan moves along to line… 2, where a British sounding Tracy (maybe that bitch who was my manager at the Burger King where I worked for about 35 minutes back in the middle ages when I lived in Norwich.) Tracy wants to know who’s more talented, the Brits or the Americans. Simon says the talent pool is bigger in the States, but that the American judges are a bunch of sedated rambling morons.
Oh, gosh. Katherine McFuckingPhee. How did she get to second place again? Hey, isn’t she that expensive escort that NY governor had to quit his job over? I’ve seen hookers dressed just like that on the corner of Ste-Catherine and the Main. Just not the designer kind. I have a dress almost like that, I wore it for Halloween. I was dressed as Katherine McPhee.
Oh, and in case you were wondering, David Foster’s on the piano while she’s singing “Something”. … Something… something… to do, that’s a good idea. The cat’s been a pain in the ass for a while, I think now is as good a moment as any to feed her, hence putting an end to her attempts to trip me.
After this never-ending symphony, comes an equally never-ending, but also very nauseating session of ass-kissing. David (geez, we SO needed another David on this show) Foster says Katherine is sooo talented, and Katherine, who’s sporting this really distracting wiry shit behind her left ear, thinks that everyone and their cousin is awesome.
Why the heck didn’t they bring us Melinda to sing “Something” instead of Cindy Crawford, I don’t know. What I know is that had it been Melinda singing that song, you wouldn’t have to be reading all that shit, because I would have been LISTENING, and my only note would have been “AWESOME!”
Away from that little ray of tanning lamp, even Syesha and Kristy are fighting off sleep.
We’re back to the last four poor saps who are probably hating the fuck out of that stupid show right now.
Hey, look at that, as if we hadn’t wasted enough time already. Jim, minus his elephant outfit, is sitting with the contestants. We get treated to a little routine which could be funny if:
-It had occurred 35 minutes earlier
-it wasn’t potentially damageable to the health of the remaining four who still don’t have a clue whether it’s trapdoor or no trapdoor for them; they might be young, no one is protected from heart attacks. And Idol doesn’t help. I hope they screen the contestants before they submit them to all this emotional torture.
Ryan is being sadistic some more, calling the remaining four centre stage. “Waddayuwant?” asks Wittle David. “Nothing” Ryan says. “Go sit the fuck down, you’re safe”. David passes out, and almost simultaneously, all of the LA ambulances are unavailable. Oh, that was Britney leaving the club? Apologies, I got it wrong, and Wittle David is just fine, thanks for asking. I wouldn’t say the same thing about all the shrieking females who will be mute come morning, but hey, that’s their problem. David Wittle hugs Brooke, who shortly finds out that she also gets to go on living in the spotlight for another week.
So we are left with Ramiele and Naughty David who look like they’re stuck in the middle of a blizzard, holding on to one another for dear life. And obviously, damn little Ramiele is safe and Naughty David falls to the bottom 3. Shit. Stripper might too progressive a career choice for a big part of the voting America, it would seem. Shoulda gone with house-calls, David!
David tells Ryan that he’s tired, and it kinda shows during his performance; he doesn’t even look like he’s trying. His performance lacks conviction and he looks deflated. I can’t blame him, who wouldn’t be after 56 minutes of that bullshit; heck, I am. Paula, who dropped an E during the previous break, enjoys it though; she’s standing, she’s clapping, she’s swaying, and we should all join her in Paula-la-land, cos’ it looks like a happy place.
Then we’ll back after the break. FUCK. Assholes.
And we’re back.
Then Ryan says “Thank you for coming back”. Duh. Like we were gonna go anywhere after sitting through 58 minutes of vacuum.
Ryan stretches it some more, asking Randy if it’s the right top 3. “Probably right dawg, probably right.”
Paula gets asked where her head is out right now. She says “On my shoulders.” Ha, ha, and fucking ha. Ryan: “Nice to have you back”. What a fucking stupid show.
Paula who’s just about to hit her high, adds that this is the strongest bottom 3 like, ever. Simon sez America was spot on. I say bullshit, Ramiele is the one who should be feeling threatened by the trapdoor right now.
Syesha can start breathing again. She’s safe. She also has a fiancé. Good for you Syesha, try to go third or fourth next week, providing they actually schedule you on Idol, and not on the show that follows it.
WTF?????? Huh? What? Beg pardon? Someone pinch me. Fuck, it’s David who’s out, you guys. Damn. What happened? Things are not going according to plan.
Especially for David, whose stripping days are back, baby! And for me who was really looking forward to that April Fools Day pole joke.
David looks more pissed than he sounds. “Things happen for a reason, you’ll see me at the top (top? What top? Not 11, we already know that. Top of a pole, perhaps?) And things are not coming to an end today”. Thankfully, Idol is.
We’re left with a montage of clips where Naughty David is giving it his all, mouth wide opened and no sound coming out, then he says “That’s a wrap”.
The. end. finally.
Oh well. That sucked. On the upside, we sifted out one David, which might speed up my recaps in the future.
Bye bye, Naughty David, I’ll be missing you and your over the top but still awesome vocals. And if you ever come to Montreal, I’ll show you my support by buying a lap dance from you. If you dance for girls, that is. But I’m sure you will, cos’ you seem like a nice guy.
All the best, buddy!
Next week: David gets either his ass kicked by the members of Doxology, or sued by their manager. Guess which David.
Stay tuned and have a good week, see you next Tuesday!