More Thoughts on the Season Premiere

The Lovely Jess was good enough to record our quips and color commentary during last night's season premiere. Now that I've had some time to chew on the scenes that unfolded before our horrified eyes last night, I would like to contribute a few more items:

1) In retrospect, it wasn't all that funny to watch Jason Anderson, a pimply 16-year-old boy, have an emotional breakdown after his audition went sour. And by "went sour," I mean sucked ass from the get-go.

I blame his family and friends though, not the judges. This is what happens when a whipped parent blows smoke up a child's ass -- the kid is reduced to tears before millions of people and will probably receive a daily wedgie from classmates from now until he graduates. Unless, of course, he cracks under the pressure of the relentless taunts and ridicule and drops out of school and ends up turning tricks and huffing spray paint in a dumpster behind the Mall of America.

What's even more tragic is that we, the audience, were assaulted with this "triple threat" of screeching, clod-hopping and Devil Stick... er, juggling? Sticking? I don't know even know what to properly call that shit. Why did he even bring them? Last I checked, this was an "American Idol" audition, not the parking lot at a Phish show. Speaking of which, mmm... nitrous.

2) You can pretty much rescue the most painful of insults by attaching a "sweetheart" or a "darling" to the end of it. Simon Cowell excels at this. "You were absolutely dreadful and have not a stitch of talent. Now off you go, sweetheart." See, it starts out cold and harsh but softens ever-so-slightly when that term of an endearment is tacked on at the end. It's sort of brilliant. The next time I call someone's mama a fat whore, I'll be sure to use this tactic.

3) Josh Flom is yet another misguided "rocker" who fancies himself the next Chris Daughtry and has mistaken phlegm-clearing for singing. Initially, I did not enjoy his audition, but dear Lord, my anticipation of his singing an ABBA song was quite possibly the best part of the whole show. While I waited patiently for him to select and subsequently butcher a beloved pop confection, I took it upon myself to apply his singing style to a medley of every ABBA song I know. FYI, "Fernando" and "Winner Takes It All" were the funniest of the sad lot. Well, to me, at least. Jess, Sheila and Mejack might not agree.

4) Paula, while clearly strung out on something, was rather subdued last night. With the exception of a few erratic arm-waving and swatting gestures, she held it together. Maybe Jewel had a calming effect on her. I know from personal experience that if you sit me down with a Jewel song or, perish the thought, some of her poetry, I'll be sawing logs in no time. Jewel's not a singer, she's a sedative. For Paula's sake, they should become BFFs. But for my sake, and the sake of this blog, they most definitely should not. Paula's spaz-outs are the leading source of most of our material. Speaking of which, we'll be launching a new Paula feature this week. And it's a good one! Details to come.

Photo: AmericanIdol.com

Premiere: The Sort-of Recap

Sheila, Mejack and Curly came over last night to drink wine, eat pizza, hummus, pita chips and girl scout cookies, and howl with laughter at the bad contestants. I took notes. Here they are. And is it me, or are the "good" singers so far not all that good?

Mejack on Jessica Rhode (Jewel wannabe, disturbing skirt): She sounds like Pee-Wee Herman.

Jessica Rhode on Jessica Rhode (after being told she would most definitely NOT be going to Hollywood): I'm like waiting for them to come out here and be like 'psyche!'

Jess and Sheila, respectively, on Jesse Holloway (black dude, mumbler):

DisTAAANCE?

It's abusive!

Mejack on Charles Moody: If that doesn't say methamphetamine, I don't know what does. He's a gay, Uncle Sam tweaker.

Sheila on Tashawn Moore (when she "tuned in" to the imaginary sound coming through her imaginary headphones): Sweetie, there's no other sound in the room.

Mejack and Curly, respectively, on Perla Meneses:

Randy, your dick's talking.

She's like Shakira and Charo's love child.

Sheila on Jarrod Fowler (Navy Guy): Hun, I think you're hot and I want your cock, is what's happening.

Sheila and Mejack, respectively, on Michelle Steingas:

I like her.

I don't like her belt.

Mejack on Dayna Dooley (black chick whose boss wants to bang her): Randy's got a boner.

Curly and Sheila, respectively on Matt Sato (little gay boy with unfortunate mole who sang "California Dreamin"):

Uh oh, what's on your nose?

DON'T sex this song up.

Me? I'm not funny so I just take notes. Actually no, I have one:

Jess on Josh Flom (Chris Daughtry wannabe): You're not a rocker, you're a PUSSY.

We counted three "dawgs" from Randy. I guess he's trying to exercise a little restraint this season. Simon? Awesome. Paula? Drunk. Jewel? Wait, Jewel was there? I didn't notice. Also, TVgasm has a full recap. YouTube is letting me down in a big way, though. I want video of the juggler real bad.

UPDATE: Death by Camera has something truly awesome. The rejects' MySpace profiles. Of course, I don't know what Mejack is going to do with her afternoon now, but still. Amazing. Via Gawker.