American Idol Semifinals: Week 1: The Boys
3 CommentsBy Lostcheerio on Tuesday, February 19, 2008 at 9:06 PM.
We're in the studio. Auditions are over. It is time to get our petulant, perky asses onto the sofa and groove all night with American Idol. And I am ready for two hours of fun. Right out of the gate, Ryan requires us to give it up for the boys, the girls, the judges. If I really have to give it up to all of these people, brother, I am ready to give up. After I am thus reduced to an echoing chamber that once held "it" (whatever it is), Paula asks me to give it up for Randi. Well, it's Paula. I can bleed for Paula Abdul. News: American Idol has slid its dainty toes under the covers with ITunes. That's so shocking that I thought they were already in bed.
First impressions from The Boy Parade!
David Hernandez: All I remember is that Simon hated him.
Chikezie: Didn't he used to be called "Eze Chikeenie"? Or maybe "Hot Chicken Fat"?
David Cook: Odious. Terrible.
Jason Yeager: No recollection. Is he what happened to Dave Foley?
Robbie Carrico: The rocker.
David Archuleta: The world's only Latino hobbit.
Danny Noriega: Love Danny Noriega. Love him til I die. I hope he does girl songs.
Luke Menard: Even smells like Luke Perry, I'm sure.
Colton Berry: Awful little excrescence.
Garrett Haley: Unmentionably gruesome, looks like his head was possibly sucked on by a large cat.
Jason Castro: Dreadlocks. Now we have one Castro and one Noriega. Next, John Peter Pinochet!
Michael Johns: This year's winner. No doubt. He would have to eat a live baby on stage not to win this one. Seriously.
After the break, we discover it's sixties night. Super.
David Hernandez: Waaah, waaah, he used to be poor. This explains how he kind of clears his throat all the time while he's singing. Or, he's just a linty little turd. Actually I remember his rendition of "Love the One You're With" from Hollywood week, and I really liked it. Tonight he sings "In the Midnight Hour" competently. Sounds sorta standard to me: he did not transcend. Randy and Paula fall on his neck with tears and sobs. Simon tells him to loosen up.
Chikezie: Chikezie got booted off at the end of Hollywood week, Season 6. he went home and worked on his arm-swinging. Now he swings his arm around like a freakin' pro. Chikezie sings a song no one has ever heard of, in an orange suit no one can look at, prompting me to ask my dog, "Who dresses these fools?" Clearly he's enjoying himself. He even goes, "Woo!" at one point. That embarrassed my dog. Randy and Paula kindly tell him he sounded like he was fifty years old, and Simon calls jim "Jacuzzi" and declares his orange suit hideous. At this affront, Chikezie spits back, "Dude, playa, no, white, grey, and black, who's your stylist, Charlie Chaplin?" Uh... you are getting voted off very soon. Watch your smart mouth. Watch your smart mouth get voted off.
OMG THERE IS A NEW KIND OF CHARMIN! WITH DIAMOND WEAVE!
After the break, Colton claims he looks like Ellen Degeneres. Also, he is wearing royal blue pants. Also, he smugly reveals that he has a theater background. Great. I am Jack's rolling eye.
David Cook: I say no to men who paint their fingernails any color. This guy is like Jack Black's less interesting, cheap-vest-wearing, undernourished cousin who totally expects to be taken seriously. Who can listen to his voice when his mugging and winking and eye-farging the camera? I think he was singing a rock version of "So Happy Together" but the chorus seemed to be "Soohippy Together." Randy and Paula fawned on him, Simon said he almost made it believable.
Jason Yeager: Because I now know that he has a son the same age as my son, I now have to take back all my good lines I had in mind, and cheer for him. He looks a little like Val Kilmer. He does a lounge version of "Moon River" which is appalling, although he sounds fine. Fine like a Disney performer, and just as covered in marzipan. He secured his place in next week's show by dedicating his performance to his grandmother. Simon calls him a dependable old dog. Woof. Bad news: I think he blow-dried his kid's hair. Maybe he's here to tv-pimp his kid: what a twist.
Robbie Caarrico: He was in a band that toured with Britney Spears. Now he wants to be a rocker. Bring on the bandanas and the chains that go from the front of your pants to the back of your pants for no reason. He sings "One is the Loneliest Number." He says it like it's a poke in the chest. WORSE THAN TWO -- YEAH -- TAKE THAT -- I'M A ROCKER. The song makes no sense on a good day, even less sense tonight. Like, duh, one is the loneliest number. Who's the challenger? Fifty-eight? The judges like it, but Simon doesn't quite believe it.
David Archuleta: Hey, a contestant shorter than I am. Put him through to the finals now. He's radiant with virtue. He sings "You Better Shop Around" in a key that would have worked better if his voice had changed. As it is, he sounds like a drag queen. A tired one, at that. Okay, the kid is in high school. But that was just painful. If he lays a turd like that a few weeks in a row, he might actually get voted out. But wait -- Randy calls it brilliant, Paula calls it brave, Simon crowns it "best performance of the night." The tiny shining prince is modestly and tearfully pleased. His voice was cracking, ferpetesake.
Danny Noriega: I love Danny Noriega. He sings "Jailhouse Rock" slightly behind the beat, in a white dress shirt, black tie, and tight black pants falling off his butt. Go, skinny gay boy. Randy and Paula were warmly encouraging, Simon called it grotesque, hideous, and awful. The judges do battle. No one wins. Danny does a gay snappysnap headshake in Simon's direction.
Remember Sanjaya? That was so weird.
Luke Perry: When he got his golden ticket, his wife (both female and small) picked him up and tossed him around. And how he's singing "A Song I've Never Heard Before" in a grey hoodie. I think the nerves ate him for lunch. He sounds terrified and disappointed. His wife nods at him from the audience like, "Remember that I will pick you up and toss you around." Simon calls him forgettable, and I agree. The saltine I ate during his performance interested me more than the song. He should have shaved. And washed his hair. And he could have tried to wear an outfit that didn't say, "I need to do laundry."
Colton Barry: Colton Barry is a woman. A little British woman. How did she get her watery eyes onto this show? Last week, after showing almost nothing of his audition process, they put him in a chair next to fan favorite Kyle (the guy who looked like he was running for student government) and then brutally eliminated Kyle, thus making us hate Colton straightaway. Then there is the fact that he has those awful wet lips. He sings "Suspicious Minds." Black suspenders are hanging down, one on each side of his body, but they do not stop him from oversinging right to the brink of fondling his own nipples. Thank god, at the point of nipple-fondling, his suspenders step in. Enough already, say the suspenders. Hands at your side, kid. Randy says it was alright. Paula calls it an eager and fun attempt. Simon calls him irrelevant. Colton fancies himself a wit.
Garrett Haley: Some of these boys have a haircut that looks like a weird kind of eighties combover. But 17-year-old Garrett has hair like an ambitious but hopeless receptionist. Big. Overwrought. Sucked by a large cat. He sings right straight through his nose, without making any stops at any other more traditional singing orifices. He croons "Breaking Up is Hard to Do" and on the very close shot, we can see a horrifying fringe of scraggling blonde mustache sneaking across his lip. I can't describe how vile this looks on such a skeletal, womanly man with so much aerosol hairspray in his frosted hair. Please vote Garrett Haley off immediately. I will send you pie. Randy calls it boring, Paula calls it slow, Simon called it whiny, and Garrett's blonde fringe of mustache eats away a little piece of my youthful idealism.
What is this phrase, "I'm going to take it as criticism!" Like, what else are you going to take it as, dumbass? A fruit basket? It is criticism, you can take it as criticism or you can turn around and go boobooboo and waggle your fingers in your ears, but those are your only choices. It's like they think taking it as "criticism" is somehow the noble choice, the high road. I don't understand this at all.
Jason Castro: This guy looks like a guy Kevin that I used to know in college. I liked Kevin; I like Jason. He sings "What a Day for a Daydream" and accompanies himself on the guitar. He looks a little bit like he's on Sesame Street, but in a post-fame guest-visit way not a secret muppet resident way. I love this guy! He is great. I predict he will go to the finals. He has that kind of "wow! tv!" humility that spends all night on this show. Randy is ambivalent. Paula calls it joyful. Simon raves that it is terrific. Yes.
Michael Johns: This is the cocky Australian who sang the first part of Bohemian Rhapsody in Hollywood. Now he's singing "Light My Fire." My husband doesn't like it when people sing Doors songs, he reports. I like Michael Johns' chances in this competition because he has that kind of all-around capability that is useful, and the teenaged girl voters will love him. Randy compares him to Michael Hutchens. Paula claims to have been set on fire. Simon says he's the most consistent performer they have.
My prediction is that Garrett Haley, Colton Barry, and Luke Perry are in the bottom three, with Garrett Haley going home.
First impressions from The Boy Parade!
David Hernandez: All I remember is that Simon hated him.
Chikezie: Didn't he used to be called "Eze Chikeenie"? Or maybe "Hot Chicken Fat"?
David Cook: Odious. Terrible.
Jason Yeager: No recollection. Is he what happened to Dave Foley?
Robbie Carrico: The rocker.
David Archuleta: The world's only Latino hobbit.
Danny Noriega: Love Danny Noriega. Love him til I die. I hope he does girl songs.
Luke Menard: Even smells like Luke Perry, I'm sure.
Colton Berry: Awful little excrescence.
Garrett Haley: Unmentionably gruesome, looks like his head was possibly sucked on by a large cat.
Jason Castro: Dreadlocks. Now we have one Castro and one Noriega. Next, John Peter Pinochet!
Michael Johns: This year's winner. No doubt. He would have to eat a live baby on stage not to win this one. Seriously.
After the break, we discover it's sixties night. Super.
David Hernandez: Waaah, waaah, he used to be poor. This explains how he kind of clears his throat all the time while he's singing. Or, he's just a linty little turd. Actually I remember his rendition of "Love the One You're With" from Hollywood week, and I really liked it. Tonight he sings "In the Midnight Hour" competently. Sounds sorta standard to me: he did not transcend. Randy and Paula fall on his neck with tears and sobs. Simon tells him to loosen up.
Chikezie: Chikezie got booted off at the end of Hollywood week, Season 6. he went home and worked on his arm-swinging. Now he swings his arm around like a freakin' pro. Chikezie sings a song no one has ever heard of, in an orange suit no one can look at, prompting me to ask my dog, "Who dresses these fools?" Clearly he's enjoying himself. He even goes, "Woo!" at one point. That embarrassed my dog. Randy and Paula kindly tell him he sounded like he was fifty years old, and Simon calls jim "Jacuzzi" and declares his orange suit hideous. At this affront, Chikezie spits back, "Dude, playa, no, white, grey, and black, who's your stylist, Charlie Chaplin?" Uh... you are getting voted off very soon. Watch your smart mouth. Watch your smart mouth get voted off.
OMG THERE IS A NEW KIND OF CHARMIN! WITH DIAMOND WEAVE!
After the break, Colton claims he looks like Ellen Degeneres. Also, he is wearing royal blue pants. Also, he smugly reveals that he has a theater background. Great. I am Jack's rolling eye.
David Cook: I say no to men who paint their fingernails any color. This guy is like Jack Black's less interesting, cheap-vest-wearing, undernourished cousin who totally expects to be taken seriously. Who can listen to his voice when his mugging and winking and eye-farging the camera? I think he was singing a rock version of "So Happy Together" but the chorus seemed to be "Soohippy Together." Randy and Paula fawned on him, Simon said he almost made it believable.
Jason Yeager: Because I now know that he has a son the same age as my son, I now have to take back all my good lines I had in mind, and cheer for him. He looks a little like Val Kilmer. He does a lounge version of "Moon River" which is appalling, although he sounds fine. Fine like a Disney performer, and just as covered in marzipan. He secured his place in next week's show by dedicating his performance to his grandmother. Simon calls him a dependable old dog. Woof. Bad news: I think he blow-dried his kid's hair. Maybe he's here to tv-pimp his kid: what a twist.
Robbie Caarrico: He was in a band that toured with Britney Spears. Now he wants to be a rocker. Bring on the bandanas and the chains that go from the front of your pants to the back of your pants for no reason. He sings "One is the Loneliest Number." He says it like it's a poke in the chest. WORSE THAN TWO -- YEAH -- TAKE THAT -- I'M A ROCKER. The song makes no sense on a good day, even less sense tonight. Like, duh, one is the loneliest number. Who's the challenger? Fifty-eight? The judges like it, but Simon doesn't quite believe it.
David Archuleta: Hey, a contestant shorter than I am. Put him through to the finals now. He's radiant with virtue. He sings "You Better Shop Around" in a key that would have worked better if his voice had changed. As it is, he sounds like a drag queen. A tired one, at that. Okay, the kid is in high school. But that was just painful. If he lays a turd like that a few weeks in a row, he might actually get voted out. But wait -- Randy calls it brilliant, Paula calls it brave, Simon crowns it "best performance of the night." The tiny shining prince is modestly and tearfully pleased. His voice was cracking, ferpetesake.
Danny Noriega: I love Danny Noriega. He sings "Jailhouse Rock" slightly behind the beat, in a white dress shirt, black tie, and tight black pants falling off his butt. Go, skinny gay boy. Randy and Paula were warmly encouraging, Simon called it grotesque, hideous, and awful. The judges do battle. No one wins. Danny does a gay snappysnap headshake in Simon's direction.
Remember Sanjaya? That was so weird.
Luke Perry: When he got his golden ticket, his wife (both female and small) picked him up and tossed him around. And how he's singing "A Song I've Never Heard Before" in a grey hoodie. I think the nerves ate him for lunch. He sounds terrified and disappointed. His wife nods at him from the audience like, "Remember that I will pick you up and toss you around." Simon calls him forgettable, and I agree. The saltine I ate during his performance interested me more than the song. He should have shaved. And washed his hair. And he could have tried to wear an outfit that didn't say, "I need to do laundry."
Colton Barry: Colton Barry is a woman. A little British woman. How did she get her watery eyes onto this show? Last week, after showing almost nothing of his audition process, they put him in a chair next to fan favorite Kyle (the guy who looked like he was running for student government) and then brutally eliminated Kyle, thus making us hate Colton straightaway. Then there is the fact that he has those awful wet lips. He sings "Suspicious Minds." Black suspenders are hanging down, one on each side of his body, but they do not stop him from oversinging right to the brink of fondling his own nipples. Thank god, at the point of nipple-fondling, his suspenders step in. Enough already, say the suspenders. Hands at your side, kid. Randy says it was alright. Paula calls it an eager and fun attempt. Simon calls him irrelevant. Colton fancies himself a wit.
Garrett Haley: Some of these boys have a haircut that looks like a weird kind of eighties combover. But 17-year-old Garrett has hair like an ambitious but hopeless receptionist. Big. Overwrought. Sucked by a large cat. He sings right straight through his nose, without making any stops at any other more traditional singing orifices. He croons "Breaking Up is Hard to Do" and on the very close shot, we can see a horrifying fringe of scraggling blonde mustache sneaking across his lip. I can't describe how vile this looks on such a skeletal, womanly man with so much aerosol hairspray in his frosted hair. Please vote Garrett Haley off immediately. I will send you pie. Randy calls it boring, Paula calls it slow, Simon called it whiny, and Garrett's blonde fringe of mustache eats away a little piece of my youthful idealism.
What is this phrase, "I'm going to take it as criticism!" Like, what else are you going to take it as, dumbass? A fruit basket? It is criticism, you can take it as criticism or you can turn around and go boobooboo and waggle your fingers in your ears, but those are your only choices. It's like they think taking it as "criticism" is somehow the noble choice, the high road. I don't understand this at all.
Jason Castro: This guy looks like a guy Kevin that I used to know in college. I liked Kevin; I like Jason. He sings "What a Day for a Daydream" and accompanies himself on the guitar. He looks a little bit like he's on Sesame Street, but in a post-fame guest-visit way not a secret muppet resident way. I love this guy! He is great. I predict he will go to the finals. He has that kind of "wow! tv!" humility that spends all night on this show. Randy is ambivalent. Paula calls it joyful. Simon raves that it is terrific. Yes.
Michael Johns: This is the cocky Australian who sang the first part of Bohemian Rhapsody in Hollywood. Now he's singing "Light My Fire." My husband doesn't like it when people sing Doors songs, he reports. I like Michael Johns' chances in this competition because he has that kind of all-around capability that is useful, and the teenaged girl voters will love him. Randy compares him to Michael Hutchens. Paula claims to have been set on fire. Simon says he's the most consistent performer they have.
My prediction is that Garrett Haley, Colton Barry, and Luke Perry are in the bottom three, with Garrett Haley going home.
Labels: american idol, television
Okay, I HAVE to delurk to say you are hilarious. I can't wait to watch tomorrow night just to see what you'll say about it.
You owe me a keyboard, girl!
(Really, you should have a warning before these posts not to be drinking anything while reading, or said thing may just come up through readers's noses.)
Sheesh.
Hey - I came across your site by accident and almost peed myself. Not about the blog you understand -just your comments. Believe it or not I was googling "Garrett Whatsisname Idolawful" 'cos I couldn't believe I'd just watched his...er... performance. Close ups of bum fluff on pre-pubescent boys is not for national television. I'm from the same home town as Michael Johns so I've gotta go for him but hey the Singing Latino Dwarf is one to watch. The skinny gay boy should have been in the girl's line up instead. But hey - nuff said.