I know I’m late with my [[American Idol (2010 Series)|American Idol]] recap, but believe it or not, I had something much better to do last night, like slam my todger in a door. Onward…
Here’s a crazy tip; if you want to know which of the highlighted auditions results in a golden ticket, simply filter the back-story into one of two categories. If it’s a nauseating tearjerker, then the contestant is already on their way to Hollywood. If the evil ones have made a prick out of the silly little hopeful, they never had a snowball’s chance in hell to begin with. I demonstrate:
Weird little Mario and his weird little laugh got the boot, along with some thinly veiled insults from [[Simon Cowell]]; public servant Kenny Everett was told he was certainly not in the best possible taste; and Austin, the jock with a capital C was snapped all the way into the endzone. Austin, when POSH SPICE thinks you’re arrogant, you’ve got serious problems.
Don’t worry though, just hang on in there for the violins, and we’ll get some nods. Oh, there they are! Here comes weepy single mum, Danielle, and Haeley the preemie, and motorcycle expert Casey who practically prostituted himself. Cowell is right, Casey. You will be embarrassed when you watch it again, but here’s your ticket, so please put your shirt back on. Mark showed some potential as a talented Jack Black rip-off merchant who made a joke out of his maudlin plea, but he retroactively damaged his status in my mind when he got all weepy at the end. I was excited for just a minute when I thought Kim would whip what looked like a wig off, as she sang about Rogaine, but no such luck; she’s just another down on her luck, single mum. Simon agreed with me about the wig, though. Eugh, that’s twice Cowell and I have thought the same; think I’ll take a shower.
I should make one amendment to my initial pointer. All comedic back-stories are destined for failure, but there are one or two non-hardship-based winner prequels. Tori, a 16 year old who looks twice that, had a big entourage, yes, but she just sounded good, nothing else added, and squeaky little cutie-patootie, Nikki Nix from Florence travelled a long way, fine, but again, was a great singer. Still, they looked nice, which is what often why they got the nod from death camp survivor, Victoria Beckham. She kept going on about the candidate’s dresses and hair and chests and f**k knows what else, actually encouraging the shallowest person in showbiz to explain that it was American Idol, not Project Runway. Yeah Posh, clear off and eat a sandwich or something. I know, I know: Third agreement with Cowell. Piss off, please!
I get it; I sound like one of the thousands of people that had their dreams shattered, and get all ornery with the camera crew, but I say f**k’em. What did they expect? They signed on the dotted line, they have no legal right to not be filmed, and they’re acting like spoilt children who refuse to accept their own limitations. They’re all about American Idol when they arrive, then hate it for not accepting them. Did they really think they’d be one of the relatively large list of 26 Golden Ticket holders? Well tough titty, as they say in a senior’s brothel, they can go hang by the pool with Bikini Boy.