buhhh-bye: the first cut is the deepest.

Best quote of the night: “Back in a big way, Paula Abdul.”

And by “big”, Ryan meant “wrecked”.

Can I just say that the 60’s montage with the 24 was quite possibly filled with the worst stage performances I’ve ever seen? Retards on Parade. That’s what I thought about that. Sure, there were some good vocals in it, and even some really good vocals in it. But it’s like that old adage that a few bad apples make the whole damn barrel completely shitty. You’ve heard that one.

Buh-bye, Garrett Haley. First cut of the season. Breaking up is indeed hard to do. For you. It turned out to be easier for me than I ever expected. It’s too bad he had to sing that farkatke song again. Talk about leaving with a whimper.



I figured out who the feck Amanda Overmyer reminds me of, which would explain why I can’t stand her: Suzi Quatro as Leather Tuscadero on “Happy Days”. She's like Leather's doppleganger. Leather v2.0. Which means I'm gonna have nightmares again.

Laterz, Amy Davis. I don’t even remember what you sang, so I don’t think I’m going to miss you too terribly. I’ll try to pick up the pieces. And as Paula said, “You gotta paint that door and that knob.” What the fuck? Her sing-out made me sort of a sad puppy though; sick and trying not to cry is the worst way to have to sing. I’ve been there. Not on national television being watched by bajillions of viewers, but still, I know that had to suck donkey ones.

Those silly producers and their teasers! Another girl going home after the break. I’m going to take this commercial break as my opportunity to pray to God to make it so that Leather Tuscadero goes home. I really don’t want to have to look forward to a whole season of Idol with her screamy vocals and uncomfortable, constipated facial expression. Or even one more Janis Joplin comparison. It’s wrecking my life and causing me to drink more.

And after the break, I learned that God hates me and Joanne Borgella is going home instead. Cabaret or not, I’d rather listen to Joanne all season than Screamy McSluggish-Bowel.

The last boy going home: Colton Berry and his creepy albino eyelashes. And 4 inch long sideburns.

How embarrassing for the 2 girls going home that the last time they were seen on American Idol, they were wearing the most unflattering outfits like, ever?

I’m going to go drink to the fact that there’s no American Idol on for the next four days.

On a completely unrelated note, forget what I said about wanting to marry Michael Johns. I now have loftier aspirations and have decided that I want to be the Melissa meat in a Michael Johns/Jason Castro sandwich. With absolutely nothing "family show" about it. Meow.

Kyle Ensley Warms My Cold, Dead Heart

Last night, at my hippie culinary school, I took a macrobiotics class. We learned all about the mind/body/soul connection, and the tenants for living your best life. I rode the subway home from class being in a very Zen-like, Kumbaya sort of mood, pondering what it would take to be a nicer, better version of myself, and vowing to change my life starting immediately. Why am I telling you this? Because it's the only explanation for what happened to me last night. I cried, y'all. And not because sucktards like David Cook and Amanda Overmyer were put through, either. It was because of nerdlet Kyle Ensley.

Melissa and Curly are no doubt going to take me to task for this one. I was touched. First, when they showed the flashback of Simon telling him post-Hollywood audition that he really thought people would like him, and then showing us what got cut off the first time we saw that clip; Simon saying, "I wish I had some of what you have." Man, when Simon is touched by something, I am touched-squared, and I don't mean that in a dirty way.

When they told him he wasn't going through, my God! Have you ever seen a more gracious rejectee? He didn't cry, or storm out. He was all smiles, and was thankful he had gotten as far as he did instead of disappointed that he didn't get further. I found it really beautiful to watch. Not to get too corny, but there's this whole notion of "gratitude," in macrobiotic theory, and Kyle Ensley has it in spades.

Clearly I was riding a macrobiotic high, because I also felt bad for cult kid Josiah Leming. I know!

Rest assured I was not without my bitchy moments, though. David Cook? Nice cropped sweater vest and pink tie, asshat. And Paula was some sort of drunk Munchhausen Mom last night, all "I'm going to make the kids cry so then I can hug them and they will looooooove meeeeeee!" And that's all I have to say on the bitchy front! What the hell is wrong with me? Oh wait -- I look forward to Colton Berry getting voted off so I can deface his creepy white eyelashes on The Grid.

I need to go watch some 30-Minute Meals to fill me back up with hate. I'll be in top bitchface form next week, I promise.