Star 81. AI Re-cap 4/26

Yikes, those naps can be a killer. Now I’ll never get to sleep tonight. Maybe if I re-cap the results show, it will properly enervate me and I can belly flop right back under the comforter. Let’s bulldoze, shall we?

Paula Abdul is working the crane camera tonight as it hovers somewhere over Seacrest’s manscape and then cuts out in mid-pitch, only to speed dizzyingly toward the remaining six idols. Taylor has a sickening look on his face, as though he’s worried he may go home tonight, but if anyone is coated with more Teflon that Pickler, it’s our Mr. Hicks. Or maybe he had one too many Fatburgers before the show; we can really only speculate.

Ryan walks out to thunderous applause and the smirk on his face makes me realize he really does think it’s all for him. He says we broke a record and I’m assuming he’s going to say biggest viewer drop during Pickler’s song last night, but no, he means votes. 47 million votes were cast. Well, yeah, you basically doubled the number of phone lines. What did you expect, douchebag?

The contestants are all squeezed onto one single couch this week. I’m guessing the other is being strapped onto the roof of Seacrest’s Miata to help fill that new house of his. Ryan intros the judges and says that a bunch of whiny, pissy little Fox viewers called last night and complained that Simon was too harsh on the contestants.

Huh???

Let’s for the moment try and put together a composite sketch of the sort of person who might take the time to call a network and complain about an Idol judge’s criticism.

Virgin
Lives with his mother
Backne
Possibly born with one testicle
mid 30s to late 40s
No friends
Growing up, had a poster of Tony Randall on his bedroom wall
Aspires to be more like his hero, Ryan Seacrest, but still shops at Chess King.


To make matters worse, Simon actually says he was wrong about Katharine and wants to apologize. But Simon, here’s the thing- YOU WEREN’T. Of all the things he ought to be apologizing for, like calling Taylor drunk or his six week long continual diss of Elliott or any sweater that shows off his high beams and THIS is what he fesses up to? If you’re going to recant what you said, then how do you expect to be taken seriously? Here’s my theory- Pickler is quickly tanking, which they weren’t expecting to happen last night, and now Katharine has to be the pimped female of the bunch, so Simon was probably ordered to say what he said.

This means two things- 1) Katharine is not going home tonight. 2) She’s going to be even more egotistical than ever.

Ryan then tries to get into some banter with the judges and Simon brings up the feud between him and Paula and since that wasn’t on the cue card, Seacrest is at a loss and sputters a couple lame ad-libs until Randy swoops in on a heavy duty vine and begs to get on with the show. We see clips from last night and watching back, I’m also convinced that Bocelli has a hygiene problem. Like being a native Italian couldn’t tell you that off the bat, I think it probably goes beyond that, like water hitting him in the dark freaks him out and he probably just takes a wash cloth to the dainty parts every now and then. I bet Foster would spill the beans if you got him drunk enough. We see McPhee sing again and after that stomp-vamp ridiculousness, I still think the judges should stand by their original assessment.

The pimp-o-mercial features “Call Me,” sung by the Doodletown Pipers and a dog that was more photogenic than all the Idols combined. I’m sure when Kellie looked in the box of newborn puppies, it made her misty for her own son back home. In any case, I still wouldn’t buy a Ford.

Ryan introduces Andrea Bocelli and David Foster and the audience rises as though they have any idea who these two are. Ryan asks Bocelli how it was working with the Idols and Andrea may possibly have a hearing problem, as well, as there’s about a ten second delay between Ryan’s question and his answer. Maybe someone is feeding him lines in Italian, probably telling him jokes about Kellie and how short Ryan is. Bocelli will be singing something called “Because We Believe,” which sounds like a reject title for one of the American Idol singles. I’ve heard Bocelli sing in English and it’s not pretty. Rather it sounds like Annie Sullivan is on the sidelines, finger spelling the lyrics into his palm and hoping he makes the connection. Bocelli is singing about closing our eyes and I wish he’d take his own advice. I mean, yes, the man certainly has a beautiful voice and amazing gift, but since I don’t wear adult diapers and watch re-runs of Matlock, this really isn’t my kind of muzak. I’m bored. As bored as I was last week during Rod Stewart’s song, and during Kenny Rogers’ song and Barry Manilow’s song and Stevie Wonder’s song. (I was merely aghast at Shakira’s song, since there was so much to snark on that I was anything but bored.) AARP ought to consider advertising during the results show. Bocelli finishes and the Idols rush the stage. Of course, Pickler is front and center, as usual, slack jawed and hoggy.

Back from the break and Lisa Tucker is in the audience. Since she’s not performing tonight, there’s no reason to take a hot comb to that mess of curls. Ryan pimps her appearance on tomorrow night’s episode of the OC and here’s a riddle- Which is more irrelevant? Lisa Tucker making an appearance on The OC or The OC itself?

Ryan is breaking the contestants into three groups of two. Katharine and Chris on the far side, Taylor and Elliott in the middle and Paris and Pickler on the near side. Seacrest says one group contains the top two, one group contains the bottom two and the last group is somewhere in the middle. (Somewhere? How about right in between, you dumb fuck?) Ryan sends Taylor and Elliott back to the couches, they are safe. I can’t tell you how happy I am to have been wrong about Elliott going tonight. I’m not the least bit bugged for not guessing right. Elliott hugs Paris and Taylor hugs Kellie, then sneaks back off to the couch to dip into his stash of panic M&Ms, which will tide him over until the buffet backstage and then the send off dinner. Plus, he’s got Dominos on speed dial, just in case.

Back from the break and Ryan says that Katharine and Chris received the highest number of votes last night. Katharine does her little superiority dance. All she needs is a bun and some smart shoes and she could rival The Church Lady. This is why Simon needn’t have apologized. The judges comments polarized the audience to pity vote for Kat. Taylor doesn’t look pleased to not be in the group with the highest votes and he tears into the side of a roast suckling pig. So that leaves Paris and Kellie. Ryan asks Kellie if this is the first time she’s been in the bottom three and Kellie says yes. Ryan asks Paris how many times this makes for her, since she practically has tape marks onstage with her name on them and she says, it’s my first time- being in the bottom two. Don’t be so sure, sister. Kellie says, unmiked (after how many weeks, the sound crew finally figured out to shut off her mic when she babbles???) that she was pretty sure she was in the bottom after last night’s performance.

Folks, it’s another 6th place controversial elimination. Kellie Pickler is going home.

YEAH!!!!!!!

The remaining Pointer Sisters wail, gnash and give it up to Jebus in the audience that their precious Princess Piss is safe. And this means that if Elliott knocks it out of the park again next week, he might actually make the final four.

We see Kellie’s journey that consists more of malapropisms than actual performances. Katharine wipes away a tear, or is it a sneer. Paris fakes wiping away a tear and Elliott is choked up, because as I just did, he realizes he has a shot at the Top Four. Ryan cues Kellie to thank her fans and that unleashes a torrent. Maybe she’ll talk long enough that we’ll be spared her song. And that’s exactly what happened. Thank you, Tivo.

Well, let this be a lesson to you, American Idol. You can shove someone down our throats and manipulate us into voting for them for only so long, but if they haven’t at least got some of the goods, they aren’t going to last. Kellie, I won’t miss you. I won’t even miss bashing you. I never for a moment liked you or bought your schtick and I still grieve for all the more talented people who could have had your spot and would have benefited from it more greatly. Now please go fade back into obscurity where you belong. Until next week…

Seagulls out.

Just Once Let Him Be in the Bottom Three. AI Re-cap 4/25

Another stormy Tuesday. Where oh where does the time go? Before I begin the beguine I’d like to address last week’s re-cap for the moment and my mini hiss-fit. While I’m not for a moment taking it back, I’d like to give a shout out to all the people in all the different AI forums this column goes out to who wrote in or posted how much they enjoyed reading. Much to my surprise, I actually do have more than twelve readers and I’m glad you all took the time out to let me know, so thank you.

Seacrest is at the back of the house and wearing pink in mourning for Ace Young. Later, he’s going to tug on his inseam as a special signal. Dress left means I love you, dress right means come on over later for a Harvey’s Bristol Cream. It’s downright upright. Stevie Scott waves coquettishly into the camera. You all might remember her as the first girl to be voted out of the group of 24. I know, those halcyon days of two months ago when gas was under three dollars and Daniel Powter wasn’t yet a future one-hit-wonder. A little more coquette might have gotten you further, Stevie. Points for anyone who can remember the one song she sang. More points if you keep it to yourself.

Ryan is clean shaven and hair-cutted this week. He pays tribute to his fallen idol “heartthrob” Ace and introduces the other heartthrobs of the show, Randy and Simon, as well as the drunk, Paula. Scuttlebutt going around is that Paula and Ryan are in a feud, with Abdul not speaking to Seacrest. I suppose anyone who constantly ridicules her drinking on-air and steals her choice of conquest this season would incur her wrath. Hey, Cresty, let the pros take care of bashing Paula. You just stand back and look vapid.

Our theme this week is the greatest love songs of all time and special guests are creepy blind uber-vocalist Andrea Bocelli and failed reality show papa, uber-producer David Foster. I am so hoping Foster treats the idols like he did his step kids. How hot would that be watching him have an aneurysm at Pickler the minute she walks into the room? Celine Dion says if God had a singing voice, he’d sound like Andrea Bocelli. So God is a cheeseball vocalist who doesn’t have the decency to wear dark glasses so I don’t have to look at his creepy half closed eyes? I mean, for chrissakes, this guy must have done some awards shows. Don’t tell me in all those swag bags, he’s never gotten a free pair of Ray-Bans.

Bocelli is appearing this week to shill his new album “Amore” which is a set of duets produced by Foster and sung with the likes of Christina Aguilera and Stevie Wonder. Oh to be a fly on the wall on that day in the studio. It’s too bad they couldn’t get Jose Feliciano to join them. They could have sat in a circle by a fire and passed around the one pair of dark glasses like the witches in Perseus and Andromeda.

Is it me, or does Bocelli, when he sings, sound like John Denver with an Italian accent? Apparently Foster is running the show this week while rehearsing with the idols. He gives it to them straight as I hoped he would, while Bocelli sits in the back spouting sayings off the Gallo wine bottles like “Only can you be great if it is your destiny to be great.” Meanwhile, Foster is telling Chris he only sings from the neck up. Ok, now I wish Ace was here this week.

Katharine McPhee is first and she’ll be singing “I Have Nothing,” by Whitney Houston, which David Foster wrote. This is a perfect match for McPhlatulence, as Houston was the originator of modern melisma and we have her to thank for all the Mariah Careys and Celines and Alicia Keys. No wonder she’s a crack whore. If that was my musical legacy, I’d be mainlining elephant tranqs. Foster works hard to get the ragtime stripper-ness out of McPhee’s voice, but is only partially successful. Put on the spot, Bocelli is forced to say Katharine could be an opera singer and they do a duet together. McPhee does everything but turn to the camera and scream “In your face, Pickler!”

Already, McPhee has a smile on her face while she’s singing. I have nothing, nothing, nothing, if I don’t have you. Oh wait, I have this big dopey fucking grin, too. She’s having trouble in her lower register, so what does she do? She smiles big and waves to the camera. Do you think Katharine has been having one long hallucination during this whole process and while we all see her on a stage, competing for the Idol crown, she sees herself riding down Pasadena Boulevard on a float in the Tournament of Roses parade? Kat preens and struts, pow, cut it out, no taking and no giving. She completely blows the advice Foster gave her in the key change and does the “shimmy like my sister Kate” vocal growl one does when they can’t quite hit the note. John Wayne Gacy is again crying in the audience. Do you think that when he had to change Kat’s diapers he used to boo-hoo over her boom-booms? Pesiha, come here! Look what our angel created!!

Now I see why McPhee smiles all the time. Toward the end of the song, she tries to go all Diary of Mad Black Woman on our asses and the effect is ludicrous. She quickly goes from stomp to smile for the big finish. Ok, so what did I think of the vocal? Well, it’s the kind of song that always gets votes and is easy to make sound good, unless you’re Lisa Tucker. Katharine will prove this week that being first doesn’t automatically land you in the bottom three. Katharine didn’t suck, but she didn’t do anything interesting with the song. What can you really do with a Whitney song? You can slavishly imitate it or you can try to slavishly imitate it and suck. Either way, you don’t come up a winner. Katharine fell somewhere in between.

The judges are not pleased. Randy says the song was too big for McPhee. I don’t agree. Kat has never met a melisma she couldn’t jab with a dull butter knife until it cried uncle and surrendered. Paula says Katharine looks gorgeous, which is the beginning of a diss, and says Katharine wasn’t in her natural zone and pushed the vocal. McPhee frowns at Paula, but tries to keep the faux smile in place. Simon says that by Katharine singing that song, she invited comparison with Whitney and lost. I actually think Paula’s comments were astute and well thought out for once and sounded better than either Randy’s or Simon’s. But this diss should rally the McPhee voters around her and keep her safe.

Okay, Ryan comes out and completely puts his size 5 Kenneth Cole into his mouth. He says to Katharine, “Well, I’m sure for those who had their volume turned down, you’re going to get votes,” complimenting Kat on her dress, but basically saying she sucked in performance. That’s our Ryan. Each Idoler has two numbers to call this week to get through. I wonder how that’s going to affect dialidol.com?

Elliott is up next and he is singing “A Song For You,” by Donny Hathaway. I don’t think I know this one, but, Bryan Adams notwithstanding, Elliott has great taste in choosing music. He says he wants to honor the memory of Hathaway’s music and bring it back to the forefront. Then how about helping to get the first season of “Maude” onto DVD?! One of Donny’s daughters, Kenya, is a back-up singer with the band. She looks all of 22 and I thought Donny died back in ’78. Once again in the clip, David Foster dominates, while Andrea dreams of cannoli and pinching Italian women’s asses. Foster rides Elliott hard and is kind of a dick to him, but for good cause. He really seems to improve Elliott’s vocal. Let’s see if Yamin implements it in the actual performance.

Hearing this song, I do know it, vaguely. I think The Carpenters covered it. Okay, the vocal was fucking shattering and I mean that in a good way, just simply, supremely beautiful and heartfelt. However- this is the first week where I can agree with comments in the past about Elliott’s personality while singing. The emotion in his voice was not coming through in body language or feeling. Perhaps it really has always been that way, though I don’t agree, but for this week and this song, he was lacking. I immediately had to rewind this and listen to it again without watching and it was even better the second time. A definite second “wow” moment of the season.

Randy did not like the arrangement, and I can’t comment since I am not familiar with the original, but he thought Elliott’s vocals were the bomb. Simon felt parts of it were like listening to a vocal master class and that it was superb, however he edited his previous comment of weeks ago when he called Elliott the best male singer in five seasons of the competition to now read “one of the best male singers”.

Paula had tears in her eyes and talked about how beautiful Elliott was and how he moved her and has done so from the beginning and she actually made me cry. Paula is on this week and I just want to hug her. And she’s right and Elliott is beautiful and as he progresses, he’s getting more so, because when someone has a gift like he does and feels it and connects with it the way he does, it radiates from within and lights up their whole being and it makes Elliott more handsome and better looking than if you were to just look at a photo of him. Whereas with someone like Ace, it’s the opposite. You look at a picture and you think, cute, hottie, whatever, but then he opens his mouth to sing and it’s false and forced and you start noticing his hair is stringy and his cheeks are a little too red. I just love Elliott so much and though I am prepared to say goodbye to him this week, it’s gonna be sad to go out on such an amazing performance.

And like the principal coming into the boys room to harsh my smoke buzz, here’s Kellie Pickler. Not only that, but now I’m running late because I took a phone call where I got offered a job to do a script analysis for a copyright infringement case. This is what professional writers do in between jobs, blogs, technical manuals and expert witness gigs.

Speaking of professionals, let’s see what the UPN’s answer to Reese Witherspoon has to say. Seems Pickler is bemoaning the fact that she doesn’t have a boyfriend. This leads into a painful, scripted piece of banter between her and Seacrest where she talks about the movie “Ghost,” the pottery wheel scene and the fact that she’ll be singing “Unchained Melody.” Thanks to residuals, I haven’t fallen so far that I’d be reduced to writing these little pieces in between the songs. When Kellie unleashes her Leann Rimes take of the song on David Foster and Bocelli, Foster stares at her, slack jawed, and the thought bubble over Andrea’s head likely says “Mamma Mia, this girl must have one a-smokin’ rack!” Foster tries to get Pickler to hit the high falsetto note at the end and she does a dreadful approximation of it, yet somehow satisfies him with it. Bocelli says she has a lovely personality, and correctly guesses that Kellie is a blonde. I wonder what gave it away?

Pickler already has two strikes against her at the beginning as the arrangement calls for her to start in the middle of the song. If you just came back from getting a baloney sandwich (forgetting you’re actually being served one via the television set at the same time) you might think you were joining the song already in progress. Kellie looks as though she’s in a trance and I’m guessing Chris took out a pocket watch and swung it in front of her eyes for ten seconds right before she went onstage. You know that only works in the movies and on Pickler. She hits a few raw notes here and there and it’s the only thing keeping me awake. I’ve never been a big fan of this song, but I acknowledge it’s a classic. And if you can’t put across the fact that it’s a classic, but instead while singing it make the entire audience wonder what it is they ever saw in the song, then you are a shitty singer. Kellie Pickler is a shitty singer. On her attempted falsetto at the end she manages to rally exactly one audience member to applaud. The rest of the crowd has otherwise been primed for Pat Collins, The Hip Hypnotist. I’m sorry, but this was way worse than last week.

Kellie already starts off with the scared little in-bred look on her face. Randy says she butchered it. Paula says she doesn’t see Kellie raising the bar and showing any greatness. Simon says it was monotonous and robotic and awful and then gets played off because of time constraints, but he got his point across and more importantly, they left little time for Kellie to make her retarded puppy face into the camera and beg for the country folk vote.

Paris is next, coming off last week’s amazing performance that somehow landed her in the bottom three, so one wonders what level the ego is going to be set tonight. Princess Urine will be singing “The Way We Were,” otherwise known as Ace and Ryan’s theme. Paris says this is the perfect song for her because at seventeen, she doesn’t have love thoughts, but she has memories. Okay, Macy Gray coming off a three week bender couldn’t have said something that stupid. We now have proof- Kellie is an infectious disease. Foster directs Paris to sing the first eight bars more softly and Bocelli says nothing of import while sounding like Luigi the pizza guy from The Simpsons. Why is he here besides to shill an album? Foster is doing all the heavy lifting.

Paris is dressed and wigged up like Carmela Soprano if she’d been played by Telma Hopkins, post-Bosom Buddies, pre-Gimme a Break. She’s channeling Fantasia mightily tonight and it doesn’t sound good. ¾ of the notes are there but I don’t think she has a clue as to what she’s singing and is bringing no emotion to it, just shouting. Randy says he liked it but wasn’t blown away, Paula says Paris oversang the song and Simon rushes through saying it sounded good, getting all snitty with Ryan. It wasn’t like Simon didn’t get anything out last time. What a little girl he can be sometimes. Paris burbles “Thank Yeww” three times before she disappears from my screen and I wonder if this was enough to get her to disappear from the show.

Back from the break and Taylor is up. He’ll be singing “Just Once,” which is obviously a new concept to him, especially when it comes to the buffet table. Andrea Bocelli flashes us his creepy, Masters of the Universe-looking eyeballs a couple times and says Taylor is “interesting.” Uh, is it too late to get my money back for the Learning Annex class I signed up for with this guy? Foster says Taylor has the most charisma of all the Idols and I suppose if tics and whoos translate to charisma, then yes, Taylor has it in spades.

I’m trying an experiment tonight. I decided to hold it until I really had to pee and then watch Taylor perform, so I could get an idea of what it is to be in his shoes. So here I go, dying to just hop up and head to the bathroom, but instead, I’m gonna watch Taylor sing.

Taylor is dressed like that proverbial drunk uncle at a wedding, in an undone tuxedo jacket and white button-down shirt. I’m now rocking back and forth in my chair as Taylor bombs on the first few low notes. Is it me or does it look like he’s reading the lyrics off the palm of his left hand? Taylor is really boring on this. Foster said Taylor should do well because the song itself is a star and yes, this is a great song to spotlight amazing vocals, so someone like Elliott, who has amazing vocals, should have sung it. What was said to Katharine about singing a Whitney Houston song should go double for singing a James Ingram song. Ingram has an incredible range and it’s terribly difficult to emulate him and if you can’t sing the song as well as he can, don’t even dare to attempt it. This was a shoddy job with a horrible anticlimactic ending and Taylor really should be in the bottom three this week, but he won’t. And except for some mild bouncing, I wasn’t sparked to run to the toilet, so that experiment was botched.

The judges, none of them, liked it and Paula interrupts Simon to yell at Taylor that we all love him, which is weird, since she didn’t particularly care for the performance herself. Goddamn it, you were doing so well tonight, giving really good, astute comments but you just couldn’t hold your shit together through two more songs before letting out the crazy, could you? I don’t ask for much from you, but this night was important!! Now no boy will ever want to take me to the dance and it’s all your fault, momma! I hate you!

Chris is bringing up the rear, which is a perfect dosage of televised ambien for me. In the excitement of watching Taylor get his head handed to him, I forgot to go pee. Ok, I’m back. Chris is going to be singing “Have You Ever Really Loved a Woman,” which is another song I really can’t stand, but Chris thinks it’s amazing. Foster blasts Chris for singing from his throat and gets him to lie on the floor and sing, forcing him to use his diaphragm. All it looks like to me is that Chris’s neck cords are straining even more and it doesn’t sound a bit different. Foster says that it could be the performance of a lifetime if Chris does it right. He starts to say “But…” and is cut off by the cameras. I’m sure I’ll be able to finish that sentence once I watch Chris.

Okay, I don’t know what key he’s singing in, but it doesn’t match the band. We now have two, count ‘em, two guitar players onstage with Daughtry. I can just see the negotiations that went on for this.

Ken, the director: Well, mate, I can’t give you a bloody mariachi band and a light show.

Chris: Okay, well, how about a three piece combo and I give up the smoke machine.

Ken: One guitar player and I’ll get an intern to flick the lightswitch on and off.

Chris: Two guitar players and my wife will sleep with you.

Ken: The one wif the bad teeth? She’s a right plum! It’s a deal.

I can’t understand a word Chris is saying. He’s mumbling into the mic and, oh here he goes, now he’s screaming and the words can be heard. Wouldn’t it just be the height of delight if Chris sang “One Trick Pony,” by Paul Simon? This is just screechy and tuneless and awful. The judges have to speed through their comments and they must have decided that after last week’s shocking placement of their boy in the bottom three that, not only would he get their pimp spot of going last, but that the judges would uniformly kiss his ass. This is exactly the kind of performance Simon railed at Chris for not two weeks ago.

Okay, my Top 6

1- Elliot
(HUGE SPACE)
2- Katharine
3- Chris
4- Paris
5- Kellie
6- Taylor

Who should go- Kellie
Who will go- Elliott, but if America comes out of their beef coma, then possibly Paris.


So there you have it- the greatest love songs of all time. Based on those selections I have one thing to say- Where the hell was Air Supply? Well, until tomorrow night when Elliott is probably once again undeservedly in the bottom three and Kellie is auditioning to be Bocelli’s personal seeing eye dog….

Seagulls out.

D'ya Think I'm Sucky? AI Re-cap 4/19

Seagulls here, back in the ring to take another swing. I managed to get a few quick reads of other opinions on last night’s show and I find it very humorous, if not downright mindboggling, that the one week the general consensus about Kellie was that she tanked big time, I actually thought she wasn’t bad. I think I feel the same way about Kellie that I did about Bucky, except I actually liked Bucky, felt he was genuine and wanted to see him succeed. But like Bucky, Kellie’s performances were always so lackluster, that when she does something that sounds decent and clear, like she did last night, it’s a happy surprise. I also find it humorous that she basically broke water onstage last week doing Bohemian Rhapsody, yet there were many who thought she did a decent job. Just like Ace last week, who stunk out loud and everyone agreed. After Brian May spoke out against his portrayal on Idol, defending Ace, suddenly everyone had selective amnesia and decided it was one of Ace’s very best weeks. It’s all subjective and you can’t win for losing. Pickler, I still can’t stand you, but allow me to be the lone standing advocate for your performance last night.

Ryan sounds more pompous and pretentious tonight than usual, doing the announcer’s version of a McPhee, stretching each word to its maximum syllable capacity. We see a shot of Rod Stewart’s family and they should have phrased it “current” family, as neither Britt Ekland, Alana Hamilton-Stewart, Rachel Hunter nor any of their demon seed are in attendance. Rod’s had more spawn than all of the Camden clan on 7th Heaven put together. Thank god that show is finally going off the air. All those people do is preach and multiply. God forbid a woman in that town wanted to do something like live a life or go on the pill.

Ryan intros the judges and Paula’s snoobs are a bit more covered up tonight than on the previous show. We see a re-cap of last night’s show and Rod Stewart praises the contestants to the hilt. I have to say that Rod was actually really fun to watch. He seemed to genuinely enjoy working with the kids and I think they benefited from it. Even Kellie. But not Ace. Then we see snippets of the performances and Chris is even more dead-eyed than I remembered. I’d love to see the thought bubble go up while he’s singing. I’m imagining an old record player with the needle all the way at the end of the disc, just scraping against the label. Over and over, over and over.

Who was that old guy sitting in back of Simon last night? He looked like Jack Albertson. Where do they get these people to fill in the front row? Last week it was Fantasia, now this guy. We see Paris, then Kellie. I went back and listened to Kellie’s song twice and I still stand by my assessment. Maybe she can get Brian May to say she was portrayed incorrectly by the show and everyone will change their opinion. Then we see the two worst performances of the night, Taylor and Ace, and end it up with Katharine oversinging, as usual, while John Wayne Gacy sheds a tear in the audience.

I thought tonight’s commercial was somewhat cool, graphically speaking. I still think the kids sound like the 1910 Fruitgum Company when they group sing. Ryan tells us if we want fashion tips, to go to the Idol website. Yes, I’d love to find out how to get maternity outfits and wigs even Beyonce’ would reject as too ghetto. Ryan introduces Rod Stewart and is still over-enunciating his words as though he’s taken six no-doz. Ryan says Rod helped turn the show into what critics are calling the best American Idol show ever. Umm, from this season? No.

Rod comes out to the strains of “D’ya Think I’m Sexy,” and for a minute, I think he might actually sing it, but Ryan is going to interview him on the couch first, because Ryan is trying to show he can be the next Dick Clark, even if no one cares about that except for Ryan. But he has to figure out how to be able to write off the expense for that star on the walk of fame somehow. Rod says he’s working on an album of ‘70s rock classics and Rod, babe, your voice can’t handle the standards, it’s never gonna make it through Honky Tonk Woman or Blinded by the Light. And to prove that point, Rod gets up, metal hip clanking, and walks center stage to sing “The Way You Look Tonight.” He and the piano player take turns hitting the wrong notes. I don’t know who’s tinkling the ivories tonight, but Schroeder could have done a better job. We cut to a shot of Rod’s latest gold digger in the audience, swaying to the music, while a woman in back of her, who unfortunately bears more than a passing resemblance to Shelley Duvall, mouths along with the words. Again, where do they get these people? Rod finishes and the idols swarm him onstage, Pickler, in a tube-top, natch, getting right in his face and show her butt to the camera.

Back from commercial and it’s Ryan shines time. He breathlessly announces that next week, Andrea Bocelli will be the special guest star, coaching the contestants in the greatest love songs of all time. I’d love to see what the guidelines for that category are. I’ll be they’re a pip! Andrea is creepy looking. Why can’t he wear dark glasses like all the rest of the blind people?

Ryan is splitting the idols up again tonight into groups. The left side of the stage contains Elliott, Kellie and Katharine. The right side contains Chris, Paris and Ace. Now my money would be on the latter group, because it contains Ace. However it also contains Paris, who I think gave far and away the best performance of last night and if she is in the bottom three, then this really bears no resemblance to a singing contest. And with the other group, I could say the same thing about Elliott, except America doesn’t understand that he’s the best singer up there, plus America’s Sweet Tart, Pickler is there, after having given, arguably, her worst ever performance.

All that’s left is Taylor, who is safe. Ryan asks him to join whichever group he thinks is the safe one. Haven’t they put this old routine to bed yet? We did this last year and Bo pretty much had the final say on it when he refused to choose sides. After the commercial, Taylor is next to Seacrest and is forced to choose. Taylor walks over to Chris and extends his hand. Ryan jumps the gun and starts to say- I’m sorry, but- and Taylor walks over to the other side of the stage. He has picked the correct group and Kat, Kel and Elliott are safe. Paris, Ace and Chris are in the bottom three. Shocking about Paris, but I’d say Chris and Ace definitely belong there. The four jump for joy. Well, let me correct that; Kellie and Katharine jump for joy, Taylor and Elliott just stand still, kind of embarrassed and relieved. Katharine does the most irritating little cocky dance and I wish Paris would just tear off her wig right now and throw down on that white bitch’s ass!

Of the three left, Paris is safe and gets sent back to the couch. Goddamn right! Ryan asks Simon if he’s changed his mind after taking credit for Chris last night and Simon very snottily says, “I wasn’t the one up there singing.” But he also tells Ace point blank that he’s the one who will be going home. And sure enough, Ace has had a bad day.

Thus ends one of the most tortured, unconsummated romances in television history. The saga of Ace and Ryan, unfulfilled. Tomorrow at the airport, Ryan will see Ace off back to Colorado to lick his wounds, all the while checking out the other ‘mo in the family, Mark. He’ll put a hand on Ace’s cheek, whisper “Your brother is lovely, Hubble,” then turn and walk into the sunset where his limo is waiting.

And I’m sure whatever bowling alley Ace’s creepy brother hangs out in will be happy to get him back on Tuesdays and Wednesdays.

We cut to a shot of Paris who managed one tear for Ace, probably with the help of a bar of soap or a drop of wig glue in the eye. We see a video montage of Ace, where the first thing he says is a very tentative, “Prepare yourself. I’m ready to entertain you,” as though the statement seems as unlikely to him as it does to all of us. I’m so happy this one is taking a mallet to his massive ego and I hope it hobbles him for a good long time. Ryan actually looks as though he’s aged ten years since the announcement and Ace takes the mic from him, mewls “It’s my time!” into it and begins to sing. I’m actually quite shocked when he doesn’t break into “One Night Only,” from Dreamgirls and instead does the wretched thing from last night. One last glance at Ace clutching the abs and he’s GONE.

Did you feel it, kids? That slight, almost imperceptible shift in the earth’s balance? Elliott not in the bottom three and Ace the hell off my tv screen for good? Sometimes, when you least expect it, there’s justice.

Until next week, of course.

Seagulls out.

Kellie Cracked Corn and I Don't Care. AI Re-cap 4/18

I don’t care.

Yes, that’s right, I really don’t care. I sat down last night to watch Idol and do my re-cap and thought to myself, “I have better things to do, I’ll leave it till later.” Well, later came and I still didn’t care. The truth is, with one exception, this is by far the worst crop of Idols ever. You all know my choice, Elliott, is likely to get voted off within the next two weeks and without him, I wouldn’t give a nickel for all the other six combined. Last year, I had A-Fed, who, had I been a force of will, I would have gotten rid of very early on, but stuck around and actually improved every week. And of course, there was Bo, who I rooted for endlessly up to the very end. Season 3 had LaToya going to the Top 4. Seasons 1 & 2 were new and less pimping was going on, so it still felt like a competition rather than the greatest snow on earth. So I decided now, I just don’t care.

Then this morning, my friend Nic called me. Nic has warned me not to refer to him in my re-caps by his real name. He wants a pseudonym. I told him as soon as he does something worthy enough for a pseudonym, he’ll get one, but for the time being, he’s shit out of luck. Anyhow, Nic called me and said one word.

“Well?”

Nic loves Idol, but hates to talk about it. So for him to actually pick up a phone and elicit a response from me, while at work, I knew there was something unmissable about last night. So after I hung up on him and rolled back over to sleep, then got up, did my thing and returned home, I contemplated the re-cap. Then I sighed and realized again, I had better things to do. After all, it’s not as though I’m getting paid for this, like the TwoP guys. By the way, have you read their last few re-caps? Is Paula ghostwriting for them? Complete and utter unintelligible crap. Well, they can have it.

Signing online, I found messages from people-

Flock, where is your re-cap?

I got up this morning and there was nothing! What’s going on??

I didn’t watch the show last night. I need your re-cap to tell me what happened.

And so on and so forth….

Besides being a complete whore for positive feedback, I realized I had an obligation to the twelve or so people who read my re-caps every week. All season, I’ve led them on and I can’t possibly get up and walk away after only taking them to second base. We have to go all the way, kids, get to the top of the ship, ride the glass elevator down the burning high-rise, smack the shit out of Karen Black until her eyes uncross and she can land that fucking 747. So I’m here and I’m doing it for you.

And I’m a complete whore for positive feedback.
Crazy frog Seacrest is sporting his tribute to argyle socks by way of his tacky tie. There are way more signs in the audience tonight, so many that they almost completely cover Marilu Henner, who is in the audience with a very young boy who must be a child she had by surrogate, since that one’s womb dried up somewhere between “Perfect” and her flop talk show.

Seacrest smarms a bit, then introduces tonight’s theme, which is The Great American Songbook. This week’s past their glory guest is Rod Stewart, who has raped and pillaged this treasure trove of musical history, never underestimating the devotion of post-menopausal women who still remember when a mid ‘70s Rod made them as moist as a dish sponge. Rod’s voice is just gone. Alana Stewart Hamilton apparently got it in the divorce years ago and whatever was left, he gave over to Rachel Hunter.

We see Rod trying to justify why he took the snoozy way out and he talks about how these songs were the pre-cursors to Rock & Roll. Well, yes, Rod, in the same way that the Virginia Reel was the pre-cursor to the Charleston in that they came before each other. After speaking, Rod twists his mouth toward his mole and asks “S’alright?” To which the mole squeaks “S’alright, mate.”

We see a quick montage of everyone working with Rod and hear everyone sing except for Ace, who just gets a hug from Rod. Kellie is wearing a low cut top and her face, as well as her rack, falls when she sees Stewart has turned up at the rehearsal with his model girlfriend and their infant son. Kellie gets misty because it makes her think of her own son, I mean brother, back home in Albermarle.

We start the show off with Chris and ever since I saw the lobotomy victim that was his father last week, I can’t help but look at Chris in an even more negative light. All I hear is that droning monotone. Maybe John Peter Lewis needs help at the pen factory. Chris is singing “What a Wonderful World,” which is a song I despise. Chris is getting very breathy and waddles dangerously into Ace country while rehearsing with Rod. Chris says it’s harder for him to sing this sort of music because he’s used to belting out to the top of his lungs. Translation- I usually just scream and whatever sticks to the wall, well, that’s it.

Chris is dressed for that bartending gig he has to go to after the show is over. He starts out shaky, but it’s not bad, until he gets to the middle of the song and starts channeling Kowalczyk again. Not that Live covered this song, for all I know, but Chris just relies so heavily on emulating their lead singer, right down to the Parkinson’s disease vibrato, that all I can really do is just shrug.

Paula is smitten once again as she claps over her head, boobies a-heavin’. Simon looks so relieved that he doesn’t have to push Taylor as TCO and can get back to his original agenda. Randy says that Chris has proven that there is another side of him as a singer. I disagree. He sang it exactly the same way, he just quieted it down. Paula completely speaks for Simon and I just wish he would grab her by the extensions and slam her face down on the counter to shut her gaping maw up for good. Simon takes credit for Chris changing up his style and wildly overpraises him. Let me be clear, Chris wasn’t bad, he just wasn’t the second coming like the judges have all tried to foist upon him. But, let him win, it’s not going to do a thing for his career.

Paris is up next with a pimp-spot interview. She has her hair pulled back and a horsetail swiped from the Gene Autry museum attached to the back of her head with a clip. She also appears to have raided the wardrobe dept. at Fox and put on Sigourney Weaver’s costume from “Working Girl.” We get to hear all about what Paris did this weekend. She got an Easter basket and went roller skating and dancing with some friends (probably the Hugga Bunch pals).

Paris does sound good in the rehearsals with Rod and this may well be what everyone who was wowed by her initial audition has been waiting for, ever since. The problem is that we’ve gotten to know Paris since then and suffered through all her wigs and terrible performances and ego trips and once the damage is done, the damage is done. She may sing like an angel tonight, but I don’t think it’s going to change my impression of her.

Paris is singing “These Foolish Things,” and I’m closing my eyes so I don’t have to watch her stupid smile. I just want to be able to listen. What I’m hearing, besides singing well, is some weird, faux-french Eartha Kitt pronunciations. The vocals sound good, but affected. A slight bit of trouble on the lower register, but definitely a good performance. This is the thing for Paris, as well as Elliott. Pop music is not their forte. They are jazz vocalists and if either were to win, they would get packaged completely the wrong way. I would be happy to hear Paris sing like this the whole rest of the way, as long as I never had to hear her utter another word in her horrible speaking voice. And let’s see how big the ego gets next week since the judges are falling all over themselves, praising her.

We’re back with Taylor Hicks and instead of addressing the rumour that he’s a recovered alkie who was insulted by Simon’s proclamation that he was drunk last week while singing, Ryan brings up the desperately unfunny parody of Hicks done on Saturday Night Live this past week. They forgot to mention the one they did of Chris at the end of the broadcasting day when they showed the test pattern. Taylor of course loved it because it gives him an excuse to do his schtick. Ryan asks Taylor if he was offended and Taylor’s response- “No, flattery is a great form of humor.” Well, yes, when people flatter you, I tend to find it humorous, if a bit inexplicable.

Taylor is singing “You Send Me,” by Sam Cooke. Pardon me, but how is that a standard? I mean, I know it’s old, but wouldn’t that have been more at home during Barry Manilow week? Oh lord, Rod Stewart is encouraging Taylor to move around and dance onstage, so I’d better brace myself for Ticky McJumpy. Taylor comes out restrained and a bit dull. He’s technically proficient with the song, but he appears to be bored doing it. Then toward the end, his need for a Detrol LA kicks in and he starts squinching his crotch and shuddering like a fat Model T. His vocals completely go to shit as he has a premature orgasm in his pants and sacrifices voice for tics. The judges get it completely wrong by loving up that horrible ending. Even Simon proclaims it magic.

So far, I’m bored. My re-cap is boring, too.

Back from commercial and some brain-dead Von Trapp clone is holding up a sign in the audience that says “Ryan, will you be our brother?” I can’t fathom what that’s supposed to mean unless it’s in some sort of weird, demented, Flowers in the Attic scenario. Ryan is in the audience, surprise surprise, right in front of Ace’s creepy brother, probably asking what sort of chocolates Ace likes.

Elliott is with Rod Stewart and we’ve finally found someone since Stevie Wonder who Elliott is familiar with. He loves Rod and is honored to be in his presence. The feeling was mutual. Elliott is singing “It Had to Be You.” I’m going to make a prediction. He’s going to be awesome and Simon is going to dismiss the performance. Well, he was awesome and had good stage presence. His vocal was restrained, but not dull like Taylor’s was. Let’s go to the judges. Randy liked it, Paula loved it, Simon dissed Elliott’s personality and barely gave him props for the vocal. Gosh, I ought to open up a palm reading salon.

Kellie is next and in her rehearsal time with Rod, she tries out some new material on him. Byrd is there and even she looks embarrassed. Kellie is singing “Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered,” three words I’m sure she’ll say she’s never heard of before. The vocal was decent. A couple of pitch problems, but I have to say, it’s the best she’s ever sounded and the clearest, also. This seems to be a good genre for the idols, but not such a hot one for re-cappers.

Surprisingly, the judges, after being handed a Pickler performance it wouldn’t be completely embarrassing to praise, botch it. Randy wasn’t impressed, Paula talks about the fashion and then says she can’t wait for Kellie’s acting career to begin. Sweetheart, it began the day she walked into that audition and mooed “Pick Pickler.” Simon also didn’t like it, but gave Kellie plenty of time to give her schtick and milk unnecessary sympathy from the audience. Okay, here’s where it becomes a problem for me. Kellie, with the exception of one or two bum notes, really didn’t do anything wrong, and in the whole pantheon of Kellie performances, this was the first one to show that she might actually have a voice under all her bullshit, yet she’s still forced to ladle on the cornpone and false humility. I’m seriously getting fed up with this show.

I’m counting on my man Ace to not let me down and to be a complete disaster. I need a disaster tonight and since McPhee was practically beaten with a wire hanger to learn this genre, it’s doubtful I’m gonna get it from her, so Ace is my go-to guy. Ace is singing “That’s All.” If anyone has ever heard Dianne Reeves version of this, then there’s no point in having to ever listen to fucking Ace Young butcher it.

Ace walks out in a suit and his hair slicked back in a Wall Street-Gordon Gekko late ‘80s ‘do that looks ridiculous. Within the first verse, Ace is singing through his nose, which proves you can dress the boy up, but you can’t take the boy band out of him. Ace is still clutching his abs, holding one hand out and bouncing, doing his dreadful falsetto. It wasn’t good, but it wasn’t the disaster I wanted it to be. Randy says he’d rather hear Ace sing the whole song falsetto. Yeah, randy, that’s JUST want we need. Paula liked it and Simon even gave it some praise.

Katharine is last and I’m just looking to wrap this up. She’ll be singing “Someone to Watch Over Me,” which is much too low for her, at least in rehearsal. Katharine is sitting at the foot of the stage, dressed in one of Peisha’s old power suits. She’s smiling so genuinely into the camera, how can you not want to buy the cooking oil she’s selling? Oh, that’s right, she’s singing a song, not espousing the virtues of Wessonality. I got confused. This chick is the epitome of spokesmodel. The camera isn’t doing her any favors, giving her such extreme close-ups, that I’m about ready to suit up with Raquel Welch and take our ship into McPhee’s left nostril and sail around her bloodstream.

Someone who’ll watch over me-ee-ee-eeheehee-hee-ee-yeah-eh-ah. It was a dull performance with way too many beauty pageant smiles. Boooo-ring. The judges love it. Simon says Katharine made the others look like amateurs. Okay, sorry, I don’t get her appeal. I never have, I never will.

No one outright sucked tonight except for me. How can you be funny listening to elevator music? You can’t. No one stood out, no one pissed their pants, but I’ll give you 1-7, anyway.

1- Paris
2- Elliott
3- Kellie (god help me)
4- Chris
5- Taylor
6- Katharine
7- Ace

Who should go- Ace. Ace. Ace. Ace. Ace. Ace. Ace. Ace.
Who will go- Elliott, and then probably me.

See folks, you weren’t missing anything this week. I’m off to go hunt Nic down and kill him for getting my hopes up. By the way, the “well?” he was referring to was Kellie, who he thought was a disaster. I wish I could have shared his opinion.

Until next time, when my rage should be at it’s peak…

Seagulls out.

Ryan Seacrest- Center Square. AI Re-cap 4/12

Fifteen seconds into the show and fucking Seacrest has already used the name I was planning to call this re-cap, Another One Bites the Dust, and I’m pissed. Not because he took it, but because I realize I’m no less lame than that fuck-tard or whoever writes his cue cards. Yeah, it’s Wednesday and I’m pissy because tonight’s show is a time wasting full hour and it’s 1AM and I’m just getting around to doing this now. I started reading a book around 8:00 and the next thing I knew, five hours had gone by. And I have a full day tomorrow so it’s now or never. And my next door neighbor who is my age and is at Dreamworks, so you’d figure she’d be at the fucking Mondrian trying to hit on Wilmer Valderama, goes to bed every night at 9:30 and throws shit fits if I so much as crack my knuckles, so I have to keep the TV low. But hey- On with the show!

Ryan didn’t shave today or moisturize. The frog eyes are particularly bulgy. Perhaps he was up crying all night because he realized this might be the last time he gets to see Ace and America will no longer be privy to watching them act out “The Way We Were,” all across the stages of Idol. Seacrest is dyslexic tonight as he says the good news is we have an hour, but the bad news is we have to let someone go.

Ryan calls the judges Queens in trying to make some lame ass joke that, surprise surprise, falls flat. For all those who wondered whatever happened to Rod Hull’s puppet Emu, look no further than Randy Jackson’s shirt. Paula’s in her cups already and Simon looks at Seacrest, thinking- we gave up Dunkleman for this? Ryan asks Paula if looking back at the tapes from last night, it was more apparent that the music of Queen might have been too difficult for the contestants to handle. Paula fumphs for a few seconds, because she can barely make it through the live show, let alone watch a tape and says nothing of consequence or import, with the exception of accusing Cowell of tickling her under the table. No dear, those are the beginnings of the DTs. Randy says that the girls have to sing better and show a little personality, which means more boobies (except for Paris, who needs to come out next week in roller skates, rainbow suspenders and deely-boppers attached to her wig.)

Now Seacrest gets into bullshit banter with Simon and this, this, THIS is why we have to have one hour shows, because Ryan can’t keep his fucking mouth shut. God, I’d love to see him get into a bar fight and get his ass kicked to hell. Even a sucker punch that sent the Pink Squirrel flying out of his hand and across the table. Something. Anything.

We see reruns of last night’s performances and in the calming serenity of 24 hours, they look even worse. I think we were all shell-shocked last night into expecting an eight body massacre and when we only got a minor disaster, we somehow convinced ourselves it wasn’t so bad. (Well, I knew it sucked shit, but I’m trying to give many of my friends the benefit of the doubt.) Looking at it again, it’s abundantly clear that a last days of Pompei-like phenomenon needs to come along and wash away this year’s crop so we can just start over. Hell, I’m getting misty for Brenna.

The Idols are doing a group sing, the first in many weeks, performing “A Kind of Magic.” Behind them, we see footage from the auditions. Let’s see how many people we can count that should be onstage in place of the remaining eight. It’ll be like punch buggy or car bingo or name that rash. I’m sorry, they’re doing a medley and tying the footage to it. How…clever? Ace takes the lead on Killer Queen to footage of Rhonetta. Paris is irresistibly drawn to the screen because she can’t take her eyes off Rhonetta’s wig and if you turn up the set, you can hear her mutter into the mic, “Mm, gonna get me one a those!” Ace is rocking the sleeveless t-shirt to see if he can cause Ryan to have an accident in his Hugo Boss. If only his falsetto was that solid. This split screen crap is annoying. I want to be able to make fun of the sub-par Debbie Allen choreography, but all I can see is the girl with the swiss miss braids and a big blue sticker over Rhonetta’s twat. The idol-ettes do Under Pressure, Don’t Stop Me Now, Another One Bites the Dust, You’re My Best Friend and if ever there was an act destined for Branson, Missouri, it’s these kids. The stage show I saw at the Disney theatre before “Finding Nemo,” rocked harder than this.

We see footage of Mandisa and Paris playing a game of bible-sanctioned pattycake, the winner of which got to go out and disparage the gays. And there’s Katharine getting a kiss on the lips from Simon, pretending he didn’t reek of hand rolled cigarettes, from Paula, pretending she didn’t reek of gin and vomit, and from Randy, pretending he didn’t reek of the last six meals he consumed the previous hour. The big finale is Taylor leading the kids in a chorus of “We Are the Champions,” and after hearing it, he made the right choice to swap out songs last night. Will Makar is in the audience with his $8 haircut and the same shirt he wore three times while on the show. Couldn’t they have given him a mercy makeover?

After the break, we see the latest Idol commercial. Nuff said. Ryan asks who picked out the wardrobe for the golf-themed spot and Ace fesses up to it. Ryan asks if he was blindfolded (Stop, my sides. Really, just toooo funny, Ryan. Larf.) and Ace lies through his teeth, saying it’s the first time he’s worn pink. Ryan says he’s worn it many times, probably on his toenails.

I can finally get a look at the outfit Katharine has on and I’m guessing after the taping tonight, she’s gonna go stomp grapes with Lucy Ricardo in Italy. Since we have 45 more minutes to kill, Ryan decides to ask the Idols if they’re homesick. He wants to know what Taylor misses the most and Hicks says the southern cooking, specifically barbecue and turnip greens. You’d never know it from his rapidly expanding waistline. Kellie misses fried okra. Actually what she missed was her cue to say “Whut’s a tur-nip greeeen?” Paris misses fried chicken with hot sauce. Now you can’t tell me anyone who has shopped for all the wigs she wears hasn’t passed a place that makes good fried chicken. Elliott misses his family and friends and his basketball. Ace misses things that he probably doesn’t even do, like football and hiking. Ryan practically channels the spirit of the late Paul Lynde as he simpers to Ace, “You clearly aren’t missing the gym,” while licking his chops at Ace’s biceps. Teri Hatcher is at home, smacking her forehead, going, “Shoulda stuck with Clooney.” We have no idea what Bucky misses, because we can’t understand a word he says, literally. Katharine misses her dog, because he’s the only one she can trust. Chris misses his wife and kids, which is a pretty dumb thing to say, considering they’ve been in the audience for the past two nights. But I’m guessing if I had that frump to go home to, I’d have the bodyguards ban her from the green room.
Oh look, there are taped hellos from the parents of all the Idols, as though most of them aren’t in Los Angeles with their kids, as we’re treated to shots of them every week. First up is the dragon lady, Peisha McPhee, who only lives ten fucking minutes away from where the kids are staying. She and her hubby have the McPheever.

Ace’s parents are named Jay and Kay. Really, they are. We see Elliott’s mom, Taylor’s mom, who has the gaudiest fucking lamp in her living room that’s pink and in the shape of a flamingo. And here’s Jamecia, the self-described “legend” saying hello to Paris and wishing her well, as though the poor girl can’t menstruate without momma and grandma coming in to check the color and consistency of the flow, then praising Paris for how well she bled on the cotton.

I dig Bucky’s mom. She just seems cool. If you want to see what Chris Daughtry is going to look like in 25 years, just take a look at his dad. They look like Millhouse and his father. I think both his parents were lobotomized before the last election. They speak in matching monotone drawls. And now we see Clyde Pickler, Kellie’s grandpa, along with a very small boy who is billed as Kellie’s brother, but I’ll be any amount of money it’s a creepy Chinatown situation with the kid being her brother, her son, her brother, her son, her brother….

After the montage, Ryan makes light of the fact that Elliott is tearing up, moved by the messages. Ryan espouses the importance of family, as if he hasn’t filed gag orders against everyone he was ever related to so they can’t spill the beans about things like his real age, sexuality, height, etc… Oh, thank god, it’s a sweet, blessed commercial.

Oh my god, that last segment was only three minutes long. We still have 38 minutes to go. Ryan introduces next week’s theme, telling us that the contestants are going to be coached by Rod Stewart and performing standards like the ones he’s mangled on his last four albums. So it shouldn’t be a train wreck for anyone by Kellie and Bucky. We see a minor career retrospective on Stewart, chock full of tons of close-ups. Do you think the mole on his cheek is any relation to that small planet over Aaron Neville’s eye?

Gaaaawwwd, more fucking footage of the Idols’ hometowns. Ryan’s going one by one and telling them who is in the bottom three. We’re stuck watching Taylor’s backing band play and talk about him. Good grief, I would not want to be around those three when a plate of nachos is put down in front of them. Apparently, they’re still playing without Taylor, but I’m sure they’ll be back with him in a couple months playing bars. Taylor is safe.

Then we see probably the only two people who can still stand being around Katharine, her parents. They show us footage of Katharine babbling into microphones at age two and carry on as though she’s performing an aria. Best in Show, anyone? Katharine is safe and she does a little self-satisfied head waggle.

We’re treated to footage of Chris Daughtry’s brother, who makes Bucky look and sound like Albert Schweitzer. Chris clearly got the looks and the brains in the family, and his brother says he also got his talent from mom and dad. Cut to the lobotomy folks, still in the same position they were in from the last time we saw them, still droning on. Yeah, I bet dad is a hoot at open mike night. Chris is safe, so there goes the accuracy of dialidol.com, who predicted Chris, Ace and Bucky in the bottom three. I wonder if Chris read the boards today, because he really looked as though he thought he might be in the bottom three.

Back from commercials (sweet, sweet commercials) and we’re up to Pickler. Ryan had earlier handed Katharine a handkerchief because she got misty watching footage of herself as a young girl, proud of how she sounded even then. Kellie, not wanting to be outdone, dug a Miss Lee press-on nail into her own thigh until she could squeeze out a few tears and then snatched the hankie away. Ryan, money-obsessed freak that he is, asked for the hankie back and Pickler said- “I’ve got the snot rag.”

Charmed.

We’re now going back to Albermarle to listen to Humbert Humbert, I mean Grandpa Pickler, talk about his pride and joy. All around the town, people have up signs of support for Kellie. I’m moving there immediately to provide an opposing viewpoint.
Kellie is safe and every time they cut back to the group of contestants, Ace deflates a little bit more and his clapping becomes more wan and robotic. Kellie brings the hankie back to Ryan and he backs away from it, because it’s not enough that she be safe for turning in one of the most putrid performances ever seen on an Idol stage, but she has to milk the fucking cornpone even more.

Ryan LITERALLY sashays back to the podium and throws the hankie at Elliott. Elliott’s mom says really great stuff about him and it feels very genuine. Elliott is in the bottom three because America would rather have a moron like Pickler around than to listen to the person with the best voice onstage. Ryan asks Randy why Elliott is in the bottom three and I truly love Jackson’s answer. He says that around this time every year, America goes a little crazy and usually picks the wrong people to be in the bottom three. He says they have to be wrong because Elliott can SING! He’s right. Remember last year this time Nadia Turner got voted off and the year before that was Jennifer Hudson. Ryan asks Elliott to sing and he looks stunned at the request, not sure if it means that he’s going home. It would have been nice to tell the contestants all the bottom three were going to have to sing. Poor Elliott looks like a deer caught in Ace’s headlights, but he sings, anyway. And boy, does he sing. How can anyone listen to this guy and not hear what an amazing voice he has? If he stays tonight, I think this performance, coupled with the video footage will help him in the long run.

We get stuck now having to watch video footage about Ace. Instead of interviewing his very first Weho john, we see his boring parents again tell us about how Ace likes to go hiking and fishing and hunting… Yes, we know, he’s manly. He fixes roofs and wrestles giant squid and I hear they’re using his sperm to cure cancer. We get it. We meet two more of Ace’s five brothers, Duff and Mark, the ugly ones in the family. They’re kind of like the two older Osmonds that were born deaf and sort of deformed looking and were forced to sell t-shirts and mail out 8x10s of Donny and Jimmy instead of singing with the other kids. If Ace isn’t gay, then I’d lay odds his brother Mark is, so maybe Ryan can marry into the Young family one way or another. Ace is in the bottom three and Ryan asks Paula if, after watching the show back, she thinks Ace was better than her initial impression. Paula hates these sorts of questions, because she doesn’t want to lie (basically because she’s used up all of those to cover her drinking) but she has no idea how to tell a convincing whopper. Simon says Ace was just as bad the second time watching as seeing it live. Ace performs and he sucks yet again. I am going to wake the bitch next door up shouting with glee if he goes home tonight, if only to celebrate never again having to look at his nasty, sweaty pit hair.

Bucky’s dad talks about the town of Rockingham and how they lost the speedway a couple years ago, but that the town is polarized to vote for Bucky and he wells up, speaking about all the support he’s seen for his son. This was the only other genuine video besides Elliott’s. And since the last one is Paris, we know it’s not gonna be three.

We see Paris’ grandmother, who apparently scalped Bernadette Peters moments before this video was shot and slammed the hair on top of her own head. Granny Annie tells us Paris was going to be a gynecologist, which says more about those outfits and wigs than three years of therapy ever could. Of course, the waterworks are flowing down Paris’ cheeks.

Bucky is in the bottom three and Paris is so busy praising her folks in the audience that Bucky has to tap her on the leg for a little sympathy. Bucky gets up to sing “Fat Bottomed Girls,” and doesn’t do as good a job as last night. What I find interesting is that the audience rose naturally for both Elliott and Bucky, yet Ace had to yell for them to get up and even after that they were kind of like, uch, really?

Ryan asks Simon which of the three he thinks it will be and Simon says based on last night’s performance (but forgets to say- and the past four weeks) he thinks it will be Ace. Ace tries for a poker face, but little Dondi looks like he’s gonna cry buckets.

Bucky is going home. Paris looks sad, and even Ace’s brother in the audience looks like he thinks they picked the wrong guy. Now, I know Bucky was never going to win this thing or even come close, but damn it, he was one of the only people left on this show who was genuine and likeable. Since we’re obviously not voting for singing, otherwise, what the fuck are Pickler and Ace still doing on this show, not to mention 3 or 4 of the others, why does Bucky have to go? Katharine has no personality, Paris is irritating as hell and Chris is like a shouting stucco wall.

Bucky, I will miss you. You did something no Idol has ever done on this show yet, you actually showed progress from week to week and proved you belonged where you were. Good for you and good luck.

If this fucking show is an hour again next week, someone’s gonna be sorry.

Oh yeah, me.

Seagulls out.

There's Got to Be a Morning After. AI Re-cap 4/11

Tie your mother down, it’s time for this week’s performance episode of American Idol. Tonight, the contestants will be biting into whole chunks of the music of Queen. Raw. My re-cap this week will also be a little different as I will be comparing and contrasting the performances done at the dress rehearsal to those done live on the show. Granted one was viewed in person and one on television, but I’ll do my best, which is more than I can say for a certain eight people.

Before we get into that, what can we say about Mandisa that hasn’t already been stated ad nauseum? She came, she sang, she pissed off the gays. This is a woman who is emulating the career of Donna Summer. Backwards. But it’s okay, Mandisa. Whenever you want to take back what you’ve said and renounce your prejudiced views, we’ll take you in. We’re a forgiving people. We took in David Geffen. We took in Rosie O’Donnell. If Tom Cruise ever wiggles out of the palm of the iron giant and confesses all, well, I’m sure we’ll even take him in. Hell, we’ve put up with Liza and her crazy ass for 40 years, we’re nothing if not dedicated.

So on with the show. I have two words for you. Seacrest shaved. Is it any coincidence that this happened the same time Teri Hatcher came clean and admitted she was still single and she and Ryan were just friends? Hey, Ryan, we’ll even take you in.

Homeboy is tiny live, like he’d been beamed from his new 11.5 million dollar home to the set of AI by Wonkavision. Ryan claims the songs of Queen are really going to test the talents of the Idols. Or flunk them. Cresty intros the judges. Did anyone see Paula on Leno last night? Girlfriend couldn’t make it through a ten minute appearance without a martini that would have choked Elaine Stritch. I don’t really watch the show, so tell me if I’m wrong, but I was under the impression guests don’t drink while they’re being interviewed. I think we all know what’s in Paula’s coke cup, and it’s not the new olive flavored diet coke.

Ryan takes us on a journey through the career of Queen, starting with a stadium full of mindless people-bots chanting We Will Rock You, then Kellie Pickler in a car trying to jump start her brain, rocking out to Bohemian Rhapsody. $10 says she calls Brian May Freddie. Seacrest talks about their many hits and stadium anthems. I find it a bit ironic and amusing that so many lunkheaded homophobes will chant these songs but not realize or conveniently forget that the man singing them was gay and died of AIDS, a fact Ryan leaves out when mentioning Freddie’s shocking demise in 1991, leaving us to assume he fell down a ravine or accidentally stabbed himself with pinking shears.

We get to see the idols meet Queen and Kellie rushes up, knocking everyone out of the way and hugs Paul Rodgers, braying, “I’m Kellie!” I will never forgive Roger Taylor for not pulling out a gun right then and there and sparing us all Pickler’s rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody. We see them all rocking out and based on this, none of them look the least bit equipped to play on a stage even ¼ the size of the one they’re on. Mandisa is still in the footage, because they decided to torture whoever was going to be voted out last week by making them go meet Queen, anyway. A bit sadistic and I like it.

Ryan tells us that the director of the video for Bohemian Rhapsody is none other than Bruce Gowers, the director of American Idol. We get a shot of Bruce in the control room and since he actually knew the band in their heyday, I search the room to see if I can spot the extra large bottle of Mylanta he will be swigging from throughout the evening. Ryan tries a little humor with Bruce and it falls flat. Flat. Very flat. Ryan seriously cannot handle a joke.

Though I know what’s about to come, more or less, I strap myself in for a disaster of such epic proportion, Charlton Heston is going to be a special guest star. Bucky is up first and will be singing “Fat Bottomed Girls.” We see footage of Bucky onstage with Queen (or as I like to call them- two guys from Queen, the lead singer of Bad Company and some other dude.) Brian May & Roger Taylor talk about Bucky’s…enthusiasm. Roger looks dubious even discussing this, but not as dubious as Mandisa, who is looking at Bucky as though he just dedicated his song to her. I wonder if we’re going to be treated to shots of Mandisa throughout the evening, a sort of Pennebaker-ian touch of docudrama.

Okay, Bucky is much more relaxed when the show isn’t live. He stiffened up severely for this performance. His vocals were about on par for both, which I thought were pretty consistently flat, but still decent. I don’t know what it is but I can’t seem to judge Bucky as harshly as I would any other contestant. I thought this was a good performance for Bucky, maybe in his top three. Oh, and he’s way cuter in person, Pen.
Randy liked the performance, Paula completely mis-analyzed it and said Bucky made it into a country song, which he didn’t, he just sang a rock song and tackled it proficiently. We cut to Simon and who is in back of him but the thief of LaToya London’s career, Fantasia Barrino. Fantasia has been busy promoting her new bio-pic deal for Lifetime, The Fantasia Barrino story, which she’ll star in as herself. Now, see, they would have had me if they’d cast one of their old standbys like Connie Sellecca or Donna Mills or Markie Post, but who’s gonna watch a movie about Fantasia starring Fantasia? Puh-lease. Simon says Bucky’s performance was mediocre. I disagree, but Simon has never liked Bucky and Bucky’s never gonna give a performance that Simon likes until Cowell is ready to get rid of him.

Ace is up next and let me tell you, this one has an ego like nobody’s business. No one milked the applause more than he. Ace will be singing “We Will Rock You.” Cue George Kennedy to come in and try to land our plane, cause it is going down. Ace is being pimped out to the nines by Seacrest who asks him how the intensity of the competition has changed. Ace’s answer- every week it gets more and more intense. I tell you, these chat spots really give you a whole new insight to the contestants not just as singers, but as human beings. Because Ace is not only battling the challenge of being talent-free, he’s battling the challenge that all of us face- life.

Ace is wearing a necklace made out of brown beads that looks like something you’d find at a Ren-Faire booth, made by a mentally challenged Native American girl who’s just trying to battle the challenge of life, which is why Ace bought it. We see Ace onstage with Queen and he’s trying to explain to them what he wants to do with the song. Brian interrupts him and says, “I don’t think we’re going to play your arrangement.” Ace’s cheeks turn even brighter and he sort of shrinks back. I love you, Brian May. I’ll even stop slagging that fuck-wad musical they made of your song catalog. For a week or two. We see Ace trying another approach and Brian laughing at him and saying, “No, can’t do that. Not to my own song. No.”

Okay, a month.

Ace comes out dressed in a chocolate-striped Constantine shirt and black leather pants that are so baggy, I do believe their former owner was Fred Mertz. Seriously, he looks like he’s wearing a pair of adult diapers under there, which is apropos for him, considering he usually takes a big dump onstage, metaphorically. He begins clapping and encouraging the audience to do the same. I want you all to picture me, sitting there, arms folded, with my best Kat McPhee look on my face while everyone else around me clapped, then some caught glimpses of me, immediately felt like schmucks, and stopped clapping. I shut down half a row before ennui took care of the rest.

The first half of the song wasn’t terribly embarrassing, just kind of karaoke with no falsetto, thank god. But then in the second go-round, Ace starts to do this weird guttural kind of singing and goose-stepping around the stage. Ace definitely saved his showboating for the live broadcast. I think he has more confidence, however misplaced. Let’s go to the judges after taking a peek at Mickey Dolenz in the audience.

Randy says it was a 5 out of 10 and was very karaoke. Paula tries very hard to tell Ace it didn’t suck, but even the little guy on the Beefeater label under the table was pulling on her stockings, going, “Paula, luv, it was arse. Tell the boy it was arse.” Simon tells Ace that Randy was being generous, that the performance was a mess. Randy chimes in that yes, he actually was being kind. I don’t know that I agree that it was a mess. Drops of Jupiter was like someone took a huge shit onstage. This was more of a spilled glass of chocolate milk. Simon says he hated it and that means Ace is safe this week.

Ryan asks Ace what he thought and Ace of course feels he rocked. Ryan asks if he was uncomfortable with the whole Brian May situation, alluding to the tape and Ace is still selling t-shirts in the souvenir stand of his mind and doesn’t understand, completely ignoring Ryan’s question and continuing to talk about the performance. Ryan just lets it go. He and Ace will have a good laugh about it later in the hot tub.

Midnight. New Year’s Eve. The S.S. Poseidon. Kellie Pickler takes the stage to sing “Bohemian Rhapsody.” Suddenly, a wall of water 100 feet high decimates the ship, turning it upside down. Death, destruction, carnage- everywhere. Then, from the wreckage, a voice mews out, clear as a bell-

“Aahm sawww-reeee.”

Kellie Pickler. Jason Biggs. Ned Beatty. And Burt Reynolds as Captain Moe, in…

The Big Boat! Coming this summer.

Yes, it is Pickler time. Yes, she IS singing that. Yes, it will suck the poison out of any rattlesnake bite. Kellie says she first heard Queen when she was a little girl. Her dad used to listen to them. And in an ironic twist of fate… yeah, you know where I’m going. We see Pickler onstage with Queen doing her best Britney Spears impersonation, running her hands up and down her body while doing something to BoRhap that can’t really be called singing. It’s more like a sexual assault. Brian and Roger say Kellie was brave to tackle the song, but that it was well done and they love her. Of course their faces resemble the expression the second before the moment of impact, so who can say if they mean it.

Kellie is dressed as though she’s about to sing “Mr. Roboto,” and her hair and make-up are a mini-disaster all their own. If this is what the North Carolina guy is doing, then I’ll be happy to contribute to help him stay in Los Angeles. She has bags under her eyes so big, Mandisa is sitting in the left one, whispering “Do it for Jesus, girl!” Kellie is so fucking pitchy and flat, then sharp, then flat, no wait, she’s sharp and… Oy! But of course, she’s strutting around like the saucy little minx she is with stiletto heels, so Simon will love her, even though with that make-up and lighting job, she resembles a young Beetlejuice. This is about on par with the rehearsal performance, to the point of the mistakes being in the same place. The only reason it wasn’t more of a disaster is because they gutted the song from tip to top and left not much material for Pickler to eviscerate. I’m sure if the producers could have just had Kellie step onstage in a see through halter, yell “Bohemian Rhapsody, y’all!” and stand there for the next 1:40, they would have. I can tell you this audience is more generous, as are the judges. Randy, Paula and Simon all thought Kellie worked it out. I agree. Out of her colon. Simon says that on paper, it shouldn’t have worked but that-

And here’s the comment that’s going to burn up every AI newsgroup and blog for the next week, possibly even longer. Kellie interrupts Simon to squeal- “Huh? On Paper? Whut?” Simon almost rolls his eyes, but stops himself, because after all, they’re pimping this chick and just says never mind. Hey, Mandisa, guess what? The world of Idol just stopped talking about you. I think by now all my readers know which side of the fence I perch when it comes to Kellie and her naiveté, so suffice to say I’m not moving from this spot anytime soon. Kellie then says to Ryan about Simon, “He uses the weirdest terminologies.” That’s an awfully big word for someone who doesn’t know what a ballsy is or what something working on paper means. But hey, she’s down home and folksy and would never lie to us.

Chris is up next and I have to be honest, I’m bored watching this on tv and I was bored watching it live. Being in the audience wasn’t as fun as I’d hoped it would be. I didn’t even get the chance to sneak backstage and trash all the other contestants with Katharine, which is really why I went. It sort of ruins doing the recaps for me, because I already know half of what I’m going to say and then I’m trying to remember things from before and I can’t so I come up with weaker substitutes and it’s all just a mess. I need a xanax.

Queen likes Chris, because they haven’t seen his last handful of performances that were all the same. He’ll be singing “Innuendo,” which is a song I barely remember and don’t care about. In fact, I can’t even remember how it goes from hearing it a few hours ago. All I keep thinking is Roger Taylor used to be cute, but now he just looks like he forgot to put in his false teeth.

Wow, this is so bad. Now I remember it and he wasn’t this awful in the rehearsal. Chris has on more eye make-up than The Lady Bunny. He’s growing a beard to go with his goatee and you know Seacrest is fuming because it looks way more natural, as does Chris with a woman. Chris is screaming his shaky vibrato all over the place on this completely unmelodic song and it reminds me I have GOT to take my car in this weekend for a re-alignment. No more putting it off! No wonder Queen never sang this song live. Except for a couple of very off notes in the beginning, it’s a typical Daughtry performance. You hear it once and you might go “cool.” But you hear it every single time, no matter what the song is and you yawn, golf clap and go, “oh, that again.” Camryn Mannheim is in the audience screaming for Chris. Boy, they’ll let anyone in there.

And judges say… Randy starts a little fake out before he declares a hot one tonight. Paula takes off her shoes and just squashes dozens of words into meaningless paste and Simon says, good vocal, horrible song choice, echoing my statement of no wonder Queen doesn’t do this song live. Mmmhmm. He tells Chris he was a disappointment because he could have chosen a better song and had a moment, but instead, he chose something self-indulgent. I agree. Chris chose something where he wouldn’t have to stretch as a singer, something he could slap his own brand of snore on and no one would be the wiser, because no one knows the song.

Katharine is next and she has decided to change songs and sing “Who Wants to Live Forever.” In my opinion, this was almost as big a disaster as Pickler, because it’s a song that should not be screamed and shrieked. It’s a great song that can get by with minimal vocal power and I think the message comes through stronger the more gently and heartfelt it’s sung. But McPhee has no idea how to connect with a song, as has been mentioned in the past, she just goes out there, smiles and shrieks it with not an ounce of subtlety. Mandisa was going to do this song before she got voted off and I think she would have handled it in the same way, probably even worse. Someone like Elliott, who has better control of his phrasing and knows how not to oversell a song could have pulled this off better. Hell, I actually think Ace could have done this particular song better, and McPhee has a way better voice than he has. Randy liked it but said it was pitchy. Paula compared her to Celine and Barbra in the shrieking parts and Simon says it was almost a wow moment, but that Kat ought to thank the lighting people because she never looked better. I agree. From the waist up, that blouse really complimented her, but with the pants and belt, it didn’t work.

Speaking of Elliott, he’s sitting with Seacrest in a pimp-chat spot (I think his first in how many weeks since the show’s been on?) and they may as well not have bothered because even double rehearsed, it still comes off as awkward and stilted as it did the first time. Elliott is singing “Somebody to Love,” which is not a song that I A)like or B) think is a good choice for Elliott.

Okay, great example of comparison here. First off- wow, Elliott pulled the shit out. This was way better than rehearsal. That being said, the mix favored the backup singers too much in many spots and I had to turn up the set to hear him better, which was not a problem live. But he was much more confident and on his game and he really made this song his own. I think Brian May telling him that the song was written with Aretha Franklin in mind really freed him and helped. I couldn’t be more pleased because in all honesty, when I left this afternoon, I was worried. On a side note, I have to say, Elliott is starting to look a lot better and more attractive. Once he fixes the teeth, I think he’s good to go. He needs to keep the hair long and the goatee. Randy says there were pitchy parts but that Elliott chose the hardest song and that is was great. Paula concurs and once again, Simon can barely be bothered to comment, only saying that Elliott pulled it off. I really don’t understand what he has against Elliott except for the fact that the boy is missing tits and a cooch for Simon to fantasize about.

Taylor explains that he has switched his song from “We Are the Champions,” to “Crazy Little Thing Called Love,” which sources say was imposed upon him rumored to be because tomorrow night there will be a group sing of it. Taylor claims that he wanted to get back to an upbeat song that he could dance to, because we all know Taylor is so graceful onstage.

Hey, everybody, come on down, crazy Uncle Taylor is drunk again and he’s going to sing, while doing the Bedrock Twitch! Taylor starts out at the mic stand and his vocals are good, even though he still has to pee from last week. Then he attempts to kick over the stand and can’t get his fat thigh up that high in those tight jeans, so he has to try it again. If we’re on the Poseidon, I vote him to play Shelley Winters. Hicks then takes off on his rampant spasms and the back of his ugly jacket looks like there’s a huge sweat stain on it, though it could be the crush of the fake velour. Either way, it’s hideous. He does this fucked up jump-step move on the stairs that I swear he cribbed from the movie “Annie.” Again, a very good vocal but the retardo dancing brings the whole of the performance down. If he insists on doing this, then learn a routine or at least some steps that makes it look like he’s not going to die of cirrhosis in five years.

Randy says it’s great to see the old Taylor back after two weeks, Paula says she doesn’t know whether to give Taylor a record contract or a strait-jacket (but meant it as a compliment) and Simon thought it was hideous and asks if Taylor is drunk, which will ensure Taylor’s votes. If you close your eyes and just listen to him sing, it sounds very good, good enough that the sight of his ham-fatted thighs rubbing together doesn’t detract enough to make it hideous. Ryan toddles out onstage and Randy yells that Simon is drunk, which of course, prompts Seacrest to say, “Someone on the panel is drunk.” I swear he has no sense of decorum. Ryan would start whistling the theme to “Flipper” in front of a bunch of Thalidomide children and not get why that’s bad timing.

Paris brings up the rear (heh) and is singing “The Show Must Go On.” Brian May loves her, loves everything about her. Now we know who’s been voting. Princess is wearing the most inexplicable wig, yet, like something Alfre Woodard would be forced to wear if she had played a hooker on an old episode of “Cagney & Lacey.” Add to that a pleather outfit and weightlifting gloves and it’s just a mess. The performance is half okay, half terribly flat, which is exactly how it sounded live, only a little more ear splitting. Randy feels Paris worked it out, Paula thinks she showed what a rock chick she is and all Simon can get out is he felt it was all a little weird before he gets played off by the theme song. Ryan comes out and slams him for being so helpful, but if we didn’t have to waste so much time of Seacrest’s bullshit banter, then we might have gotten some helpful comments.

My ranking from 1-8

1- Elliott (which would not have been at rehearsal. I’d have put him at #3)
2- Bucky
3- Taylor
4- Chris
5- Katharine
6- Paris
7- Ace
8- Kellie

Who should go- Ace or Kellie.
Who will go- I have a feeling it’s going to be Paris. If not, then Ace. I do think the bottom three is going to contain a couple of surprises, possibly Kellie or Chris, though neither will go.

Okay, I’ll say it again, I didn’t have as much fun going to the rehearsal as I thought I would. There were no hissy fits, nothing was learned that was salacious and it sort of impeded on my enjoyment of the show on tv. Having been to tapings before, both as an audience member and as an actor participating, I know they’re dull as dishwater, but I expected this to be a little different. I think also, the show was disappointing in that it wasn’t the 50 car pile-up we had all hoped it might be. My idol ship is sailing and I’m on the dock, with Doc, waving….

Seagulls out.

Results of the "How Ace Really Got His Scar" Contest.

The entries have all been read and the winner and top three stories have been chosen. I want to thank everyone who sent in their stories. We had a whopping 21 entries (to me, 21 is whopping) and these are the cream of the crop. To remind everyone, the first prize is a CD of the winner's three favorite Idols of Season 5 and all their performances in this season. Now, on with the Top Three.

In first place is MapGirl and her terrific comic strip of how Ace got his scar. I loved the creativity and simplicity of this entry, but most of all, I love how Ace sounds like he stepped right out of an Irish Spring commercial. Excellent work, MapGirl and congratulations.






In second place is Soon to Choose and her story of Ace and his hunting accident...

It was the kind of day in early spring when people get restless. Ace Young was walking through the woods searching for something, but he wasn't quite sure what. Bluebells? Pixies? Or maybe just a quiet place to practice his rendition of Michael Jackson's "Butterflies" without getting beaten up?

Suddenly, there was a rustling in the undergrowth...like a startled fawn Ace turned toward the sound just in time to see his doom rushing upon him in the form of a bolt from a crossbow! It flashed across his chest, searing his tender skin and drawing
gemlike drops of blood. Ace fell to the ground and was on the point of losing consciousness when he felt himself caught up in a pair of powerful arms. He
opened his eyes to find himself gazing into the ruggedly handsome face of none other than Ted Nugent!

"Oh man, I'm so sorry! I thought you were like, Bambi!" exclaimed the mighty hunter, his voice tight with anguish. Ace, too moved to speak, sobbed delicately on Ted's manly chest. And there we leave them.

And in third place is Boulder Valley Girl and her tale of mountains gone wrong...

How Ace Young Was Impaled on Flagstaff Mountain

Having revealed his mark to the world, it is time for the truth (according to the internet) to be told about Ace Young's jagged scar over his right clavicle and how it came to be. Ace is a 1999 graduate and former athlete of Fairview High School in Boulder, Colorado. It was a simple matter of senior ditch day, a prank gone wrong, and a near-perfect male specimen being scarred for life. Flagstaff Mountain is a winding drive up the jagged rock vistas known as The Flatirons above Boulder. It's a popular place for local high school kids to hang out, climb trees, scale rocks or just park and make out. On senior ditch day, Ace and some of his fellow jocks decided it was a good enough reason to skip school as spring varsity letter winners were determined, grades already hopelessly below average, and letters of intent signed. Before Ace sought the limelight as an aspiring singer/actor, he was one of those shy types, easily swayed by his peer group. On this fateful day, wearing his favorite George Michael T-shirt, he was chided by members of his herd to mark the day with a daring climb up the steep rock formations. While navigating a particularly dangerous face of the pink sandstone, Ace slipped on loose gravel and fell. Cartwheeling downward, first to the amusement, then to the horror of his fellow truants, Ace's yodeling could be heard as far away as Louisville (this may have been the moment he decided to become an entertainer). Not unlike the demise of Chef on South Park, he bounced from rock edge to rock edge, finally coming to a jarring stop. A T-bar installed by the local forest service to prop up an ailing Ponderosa pine had impaled him dangerously close to his vital organs (not those vital organs, Paula). His friends, more skilled at batting balls or sacking the quarterback, had a difficult time making their way down the mountainside to aid their injured friend. The first to reach him described his doll's-eyes stare (later to become known as the eye boink) as eerie, and made me scared and uncomfortable. Obviously, Ace pulled through, but the "Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go" T-shirt did not.

Again, thanks to everyone who sent in their very entertaining stories. MapGirl, please e-mail me at flkofcguls@aol.com to let me know your three Idol selections. And readers, please keep an eye out for the next contest. I'll see you for Queen week next Tuesday!

Seagulls out.

Any Man of Hers...Isn't Gay. AI Re-cap 4/5

Line ‘em up and paint dorky smiles on their faces. All except McPhee, who must huff skunk juice right before going on, because what a puss she has plastered on. It’s time for the results show.

Seacrest is in the back of the audience and you know it took every ounce of discipline for him not to shave after everyone in the world ragged on him for that ridiculous beard. (no, not Teri Hatcher, the “other” beard.) But Seacrest will not be proven wrong, no matter how many mani-pedis and facials he gets. He’s MANLY! Oh, he’s got a number for us this week. I guess the results weren’t as humiliating as last time out. 35 million votes. The audience applauds for the remaining nine and someone must have pinched McPhee, because she’s chosen to start smiling. Either that or she’s imagining all the applause is for her, like some demented Mama Rose.

Randy has the night off from Sizzler and Simon is wearing the same sweater as last night. Randy boos Simon when they announce his name and since only Paula has signed her contract (3 more years at 5-8 million dollars!! Fuck, I’d be happy to give better criticism for 1/20th of that. Hell, I’d be more qualified and I don’t drink or take drugs.) Randy had better not bite the hand that feeds.

They start strolling down last night’s memory lane and give all the contestants high marks, however none of them are from Simon, so they don’t really mean much. Praise from Paula and Randy is like my mom telling me I’m cute. What the hell does she know? The only positive comment from Simon was the one to Paris, in which he obviously curried favor from the audience after complaining about continually getting booed. He could have just said “nice wig” and been done with it.

Ryan introduces Kenny Rogers and the team of six white horses in back of him, pulling his face taut. Yeah, I had a day to reflect a bit more on King Kenny and I’m sour. The audience applauds and a quick shot to Taylor reflects he’s feeling a tad sour, as well. I guess all the Holiday Inns in Alabama are no longer going to get to hear “Lucille” performed by their bar band.

Kenny tries to get Simon to come around to country music and Simon says he likes Kenny’s songs. I actually, do, too, or I did when I was growing up. To me, they’re part of the old school country, before it became bland. Ryan asks Rogers what he thought about the contestants and he answers that he was most impressed with them personally, which when you think about it, is a slap in the face to their talent, however not a completely off the mark criticism after the past two weeks. Taylor still looks offended, Mandisa is smiling like she’s carrying the memory torch for Gedeon and McPhee totally gets that Kenny just insulted them all.

Kenny is going to perform the first single from his new album “Water and Bridges,” called “I Can’t Unlove You.” Is that anything like I can’t unfire you? Because you could have, you fat bastard. Wow, Rogers has lost it, vocally. That sucks. I mean he makes Bucky sound good. Pickler looks weird with her hair pulled back. For a minute, I thought maybe Carmen the hairstylist from North Carolina had whacked it all off short. Hey, Kenny is starting to sound better. Yeah, I can forgive and forget. Someday. The contestants hug Rogers after he finishes and Paris goes up to him and bleats, “You were good,” as though it wasn’t true until she said so.

New Idol commercial to “Just One Look.” We see Kellie and Taylor in the roles they were born to play and probably will be playing once the competition is over. Taylor is a mechanic and Pickler is dressed slutty and bringing her sugar daddy’s car in to get fixed. Now if only the commercial goes on to show Katharine as a dominatrix and Paris as a Macy’s Christmas elf, then this will be near cinema verite. God, that was the dumbest fucking commercial yet. Don’t Fords usually turn into pieces of crap almost immediately, instead of the other way around?

Ryan tells us that next week, the Idols will be performing the music of Queen and the audience squeals its surprise, as though the information hadn’t been floating around on the internet for the past two weeks. He then shows us clips of everyone rehearsing with the band, which is just bullshit footage of them pretending to play with Queen, but is a little cruel, since one of them won’t really be doing that after the next 10 minutes.

Ryan is changing things up this week. He’s going to split the contestants up into three groups of three, one of which is the bottom three. While he’s explaining this, Bucky stifles a yawn. Yeah, I hear ya. The groups are broken up as such- Taylor, Kellie and Chris; Mandisa, Elliot and Paris and Ace, Katharine and Bucky. Hard to call, because while I’m sure Chris is safe, so that means his group is safe, both of the other groups had some bad performances, so it could be either one. I’m banking on the Ace group, simply because it has Ace in it, but I’d be surprised if McPhee was in the bottom a second week in a row. That plus Mandisa was really bad last night. I think perhaps TPTB want to shake things up a bit and it will be Mandisa’s group.

And, as expected, Chris’ group is safe, which does show how much support Taylor has since he gave an el stinko performance last night and rightfully should be in the bottom three. My personal three choices would be Taylor, Seacrest’s facial hair and Randy’s red vest, but that’s just me. Yes, TPTB have decided to keep Ace on another week. Well, fresh material for me, I suppose. You can’t build a column on Pickler crap every week, though she really does make it so damned easy.

Okay, I’m fucking terrified for Elliott. However, I’m going on a limb and saying it’s Mandisa. She pissed off the gays and had two awful weeks in a row. Of course, nowhere near as awful as the six weeks in a row Ace has had, but then again, Ace has Bambi eyes and a washboard stomach. Back from the break and Paris is safe. Fuck. Me. It’s down to Elliott and Mandisa and I’m still thinking Mandisa, which doesn’t give me any pleasure, but I’d rather see her go than Elliott. My eyes are shut and I’m cringing and it’s… Mandisa. Cut to a shot of Paris and for once, she’s not crying, because now she’s got the black vote locked up. Mandisa performs her song just as badly as she did last night.

Yes, I know I said yesterday that I had given up on her, but man I wanted to see her stick around for Queen night. She would have kicked ass on half a dozen numbers. Instead, we’ll get to see Paris, Bucky and worst of all, Ace, try hard not to take a shit all over the memory of Freddie Mercury. Let this be a lesson to you, Mandisa, you do not wanna piss off the gays. No ma’am. Well, anyway, I see a possible future for her in gospel music, which is where I think she’s best suited. Oh Mandy, I loved you, you lost me, you’ll be missed.

Join me next week as I am sure seeing these 8 perform the music of Queen will be a treasure trove of snark. And I have chosen a winner of last week’s “How Ace Really Got His Scar,” contest, so check out the blog-site for the winner and top three choices.

Seagulls Out.