Tonight, I’m bringing you guys something different: a drunken recap of the last half-hour of tonight’s show.
Followed by, tomorrow, a sober recap of the first hour of what will be, by then, last night’s show (if said show finishes downloading by tomorrow, that is.).
You like the new format? Yes? Great.
Before we get started, though, just because I know how much you guys love to learn new things about me every week, I’ll let you know that I have SAD disease: Seasonal Affective Disorder. It’s not abnormal; Rosie O’Donnell, has it too.
And, because I live in Québec, unlike Rosie, I have real damn good reasons to have SAD:
-The temperature is still in the minuses (you Americans Google ‘minus’, and then you’ll understand where I come from and feel sorry for me.)
-I still have two feet of snow on my balcony (which is facing West, and is VERY sunny…)
-The weather around here basically FUCKING SUCKS and I FUCKING HATE IT.
OK, I’m done with the ranting, thanks for sticking around. 🙂
American IDOL SEASON 7, TOP 10 RECAP, part 2. (Part 1 will be posted tomorrow. Hopefully. It really is a slow download.)
So it all starts when I walk into my apartment at around 9.04.
Immediately, still all clad in my regular boots-coat-hat-scarf-gloves spring clothing, I turn the TV on. Immediately, I hear sounds of FH (Female Hysteria).
I have of one these 200$ TVs, where the sound comes on before the image, so I have a couple a seconds to wonder: “Who the heck is causing all this fucking FH?” before realizing that it’s, duh, Wittle David.
Talking about Wittle David, I want to make a quick aside here.
Yesterday, someone on the IMDB Idol message board (which rocks, by the way) posted a topic asking people to judge Wittle David, based solely on his voice.
And, funny enough, I found myself unable to judge him on his voice alone.
That’s because I’ve seen him perform.
See, if I pay 40, 50, or 75 bucks to come and see you, you better give me more than good singing; I want a SHOW. I want a performance.
And so far, for me, Wittle David has sang well, but he hasn’t ‘performed’. You know what I mean?
And I’m a greedy creature; not only do I want good singing, I also want to be entertained, and that is a factor I always take into *cough*I wish Danny Noriega was still around*cough* consideration.
But, tonight, came my opportunity to judge Wittle David solely on his vocal abilities.
Because I needed the loo badly when I got home, I thought I’d put the TV on loud, and wisten to his whole performance from the bathroom (I have a small place, the sound travels well).
And you know what you guys? I wasn’t that impwessed.
I didn’t know the song that he did, I didn’t like it, and I thought the vocals were totally bland, blah, and nothing to write home about.
Before the FH (see above) squad jumps on my ass, I judged him solely on his singing; but, for all I know, his performance could have kicked ass (although I really, really doubt it.)
And I also am aware that Wittle David’s specialty are ballads. And that this shitty song wasn’t quite ballady enough for him. And that it didn’t show his range either.
So because of the above reasons, I’ll wait until I actually see his performance before I give my ultimate judgment.
But he is better blow me out of my socks.
I was in the bathroom washing my hands when Randy spoke, but I think I heard him say that he liked it.
I was flushing the toilet when Paula gave her advice as to whether or not the colours he sang tonight matched, so I didn’t hear fuck all, but I’m betting she suggested Wilttle David sings more turquoise in the future.
While I’m sure Wittle David was securing a few lucrative advertising contracts with Colgate, I hurried my half-naked ass to the living-room just in time to both hear and see Simon take one big sharp knife and cut all that cheese in teeny cute Wittle cubes.
You gotta love Simon, sometimes; he just said exactly what I hoped he would say, but in other words.
Regardless, comparing Wittle David to something that, judging from my notes, reads like, “shitty amusement park attraction… something… “, is close enough.
Krist-Hee is next, and I cannot help but being almost surprised when she comes on, because, really, she sucks, and should have been sent back to her true calling (singing to horses) about a month ago.
And Krist-Hee is obviously determined to overstay her welcome; she has the nerve to sing a song about being “A proud American”, a song that is so nauseatingly HER, and so obnoxiously has KRIST-HEE LEE COOK written all over it, that I have to go to the fridge, crack open a beer, and have a swig the size of a Confederate flag.
(I was tempted to leave the original typo of “fag” on that last word, but that just wouldn’t be nice. Maybe next week, since it’s obvious she’ll stick around; bitch doesn’t even suck tonight.)
And FYI, you guys? She is the new VFTW pick. Even My David is not as marketable. These guys over there are on dope.
Randy: besides his typical Dawgy pitch problems, he liked it.
Paula: It was a good choice of song, in spite of being ‘pointed’. (I dunno what she meant by that. The colours, I’m starting to understand, but the shapes, not so much yet.) She also added that Krist-Hee was growing.
Simon: Best performance yet. (And if I want to be honest, I can only, although oh so very begrudgingly, agree).
His socks add that it was a really clever song choice. (And it really hurts to admit it, but it is true. Damn. One more ‘proud American’ to hate.)
Me: (I’m the understudy for the ‘drunk judge’ part): The sadistic part of me (73%) hopes that Amanda has some good ‘friends’ in the bike-riding business. And that those ‘friends’ hate proud American blondes.
Next up… Hey, that’s a surprise!!! A good surprise!
Earlier on, while I was happily getting plastered at the Cock’N’Bull, when 8 o’clock came on, I said to my buddy Ian : “I bet your ass my guy’s coming on first tonight”.
Turns out I was completely wrong.
I’m touched that My David asked Idol if he could perform last, so that I could get home in time to see him. Aww, thanks babe, but you didn’t have to that. Still, I appreciate. it 🙂
For the record, My David was an uglier baby than I was. And I thought I was hard to beat. (I’ll post a picture sometime, just to give you an idea.)
So I was in the middle of a double-take on what I thought were the words “Billie Jean”, when Ian rang me up to ask if I wanted some chicken. Naturally, I said yes, thanks, I’ll be there soon, and thanks again, but a tiny part of me couldn’t help cursing him a little bit, because by the time I got back to My David, I only had about 36 seconds left to figure out whether or not I had heard right and he was indeed singing “Billie Jean”.
And yes, he was.
I have to say, Michael Jackson’s “Thriller”… It means a lot to me. It’s a kick-ass album. Michael Jackson is undeniably nuts, but his musical legacy is huge, in my opinion.
I’ll tell you a secret: the night the video clip of “Thriller” first aired on TV, I was allowed to stay up and wait until it came on.
Then after I saw it, I went to bed scared shitless and didn’t sleep all night.
And while the original version of Billie Jean is simply awesome, somehow, My David found a way to make it work as a ballad. Don’t ask me how. I would never thought it was actually possible.
At this point, this guy would only have to snap his fingers at me to make me his sex slave. Or whatever he wants me to be as long as it’s involves me and him having sex. Hot dirty sweaty sex.
However, I can still see clearly, in spite of My David’s obvious attempts to seduce me.
And I’ll say that this was not my favourite performance of his. I definitely think it was ballsy, and it did kind of work, but I love the original Billie Jean too much to find it me to fall in love with David’s version. But still. I cannot help but being impressed, pleased, and totally horny.
He’s also toned it down majorly with the attitude and the Constant-Crap muggy squinty stuff, and that can only help reaincquaint me with my not so distant fantasies where him and I are fucking like minks at the back of Simon’s 1000 000 $ car.
Randy: Original, bold ( I agree) and could end up winning the whole damn thing (Personally, I find that the idea of winning American Idol makes the concept of selling your soul to the Devil almost appealing, because I reckon it’d be easier to make a deal with Satan than with the Idol producers; after all, look at Ozzy: coulda turned out worse. ‘The Osbournes’ was big at some point.)
Paula: She stands up. Those E’s can indeed make you feel hyper once in a while. Paula is blown away. She finds David brilliant.
(Hey…! Psst…! Paula’s pusher…!
Paula’s pusher: I’d really like to hook up with you. If you read this, could you please leave me a comment, with, so that I know it’s you, the following secret code: “This is the best blog that I’ve ever read” ? Thanks.)
Guillotine time: was My David’s performance brave? Was it insane?
It was amazing, Simon said.
I fucking adore Simon tonight, you guys. I adore him so much that if he was on the East Coast right now, I might consider blowing his shoes off, because Krist-Hee already perfected the socks trick, and I really want to stand out.
Oh, the recaps of tonight’s show are back! Don’t you guys think it would be fun if I gave you my impressions of the 10 seconds sound bites that I’m just about to hear?
Yes? OK, then, recaps’ review:
(Remember, the recaps are all I’ve seen so far, except for My David, and two other people whom I have forgotten, distracted that I am by all the irresistible sex appeal that filled up my TV screen for too brief a time.)
Ramiele sings “Alone”: It sounds good until that horrible note at the end of the recap.
Ramiele, girl: I don’t hate you, but Heart should only be sung by Carly; so keep off and wait for Mariah fucking Carey week, so that you can butcher HER songs. But lease Ann Wilson ‘Alone’, please.
Jason: Sings something that I know that I know, with his guitar. It sounds Ok.
Syesha: Sounds like she’s back on diva mode. Which is the Syesha I really don’t care about.
Hey, Syesha, please sing ‘Yesterday’, tomorrow, when you’re send packing. (Sorry guys, but there is no way Krist-Hee’s going home tomorrow, I’m afraid. And I sniff danger for Syesha.)
Chikezie: Back to singing what sounds to me like a bad ballad in what looks to me like a bad suit. Dammit.
Chikezie, dude, don’t fuck around. I love you, but don’t fuck around.
Sunshine Yellow (Brooke Yellow, for the non-initiated) sings what appears to be a very subdued version of “Every breath you take” from the Police.
Which unfortunately for me, sounds pretty damn good.
Sunshine gets on my fucking nerves, just like any other white-bread PG-rated Mormon contestant would, Wittle David, but I must admit that I’m looking forward to listening to this song.
Michael Australia, doing what he does best: Queen. Hey, not a small feat.
Sounds pretty good to me, I’m also looking forward to hear that one.
AWWW. I am going to LOVE this. Carly, singing “Total eclipse of the heart”.
I love that song, I love Carly’s voice, and this sounds really really good.
I can’t wait to watch the rest of this show; it sounds really good. Unlike my current download speed.
Oh, Wittle David and his cheesy bad song are back, and neither sound any better the second time around. Even with visuals.
Ok, it’s time to go and eat my chicken.
So I’ll see you here sometime tomorrow, for part 1 of this recap.
That is if, by chance, the show has finally finished downloading by then.