Wednesday, March 23, 2005

Do-over

Something isn't right here.

The Idol claims that the voting numbers were displayed incorrectly last night. I disagree. I watched the show, like a hawk, from beginning to end. I'm obsessed with it. I think I would notice. If any of you reading this have TiVo-ed last night's episode, please prove me wrong. I'll have enough trouble sleeping tonight as it is.

I feel like I'm being lied to, and I hate being lied to, especially by a group of producers, including Simon Cowell, that are responsible for one of my most guilty pleasures. It's right up there with stick bologna. That's right. I eat stick bologna like a 4 year old and I love it. Love ...it.

I'm so upset that I'm inserting unnecessary puncuation. This is a travesty.

It seems pointless for me to review last night's show, since it has been completely wiped from any record of memory on the Fox Network. This not only saddens me, but makes me very uneasy. Because you see, last night's Idol was the best thing I have ever seen on television. We're talking right up there with that O.C. episode about Tijuana.

Yep, that awesome.

Should I have expected the good people at Fox to let me down? OF COURSE. Does knowing this make my disappointment any easier to bear?

HELL NO.

Moving on...

What I will comment on is Paula. I've always thought she was flighty or flaky or spacey, but none of these descriptive adjectives can explain her behavior last night. The only word I can think of is wasted. I know I'm not the only one who noticed her inexplicable outfit (that she seems to have sewn together from scraps of atrocious outfits of Idols past), her extremely floppy hand clapping or her blatant need to practically get up on the judges table and dance to every song, waving her hands in the air like a drunk, bikini clad spring breaker in MIAMI.

Come on, Paula.

I will also comment on the couture of Ryan Seacrest. The man-child was wearing a T-shirt that said "I [heart] expensive T-shirts." Seacrest, put a target on your chest and just get it the fuck over with. I've never wanted the dry, deeply insulting sarcasm of Dunkleman back in such a bad way. Do you see what you've made me say, Seacrest? DO YOU SEE MY PAIN??

I'm all worked up.

The only thing that will come even remotely close to making up for this is if Nadia rocks that mohawk again.
And if Mikala sounds even more like Taylor Dane.
And if I get more ammunition on Nikko...singing a SISQO song...again.

Only then.

No comments: