Thursday, March 26, 2009

Motown Week

There's something about an American Idol week like this one that I both love and hate.

Love it because the bottom three are so patently obvious. Michael, Scott and Megan. I say so. Dialidol says so.

The standouts were also pretty obvious, too. Much as I can't stand Adam, I have to say his performance was in such a different league from the others it was a little embarrassing. It's so funny. You watch the judges try and explain what wasn't great about some of the other performances, struggling to find more interesting things to say than, "It was just alright, dog." Struggling to explain to someone like Scott why it's not just about singing well. At this level of competition, they've all shown they're pretty great singers. It really is, as Kara said, about artistry. And then someone like Adam gets up there and you just want to say, "Yeah. Um. What he did."

But for the record, every time he sang, "Take a good look at my face," all I could think about was how much foundation he wears.

Anyway, what's tricky about weeks like this is when three people so obviously fall well below the line, it's almost impossible to put them in the right order and say who will get the boot. I think it's a total tossup. You might as well put their names in a hat. Actually, you might as well put Michael and Megan's names in a hat. Dialidol says it's Michael, which I would have no problem with. He has the same body type as a particularly egregious former boyfriend; every performance has me reliving a rather unfortunate chapter of my life.

I could just as easily see it being Megan. (And would love -- love! -- to be spared another week of that hands-on-hips bobbing maneuver she appears to think is dancing.)

So what the hell. I'll go with Dialidol and say Buh-Bye Michael. And while we're at it, Buh-Bye to all bad boyfriends everywhere.

Tuesday, March 24, 2009


I went upstairs this afternoon to get Ethan a clean shirt after an unfortunate run-in with a squeeze yogurt.

I told him as I was going upstairs to share his snack with Alec.

While upstairs, I heard E offer his snack to Alec.

Alec said, "Thank you," or, more precisely, "TANK-OO!"

Ethan said, "You're welcome!"

My work on earth is done, right? ;-)

I've been calling this one the new logo of the International Little Brother Association. He wasn't being hurt, mind you. He just didn't want to be in the picture...

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Adam Lambert, How Do I Loathe Thee?

Let me count the ways.

No, actually, let me let a poster from Television Without Pity count the ways. Props to my friend Linda for sharing this with me: (And to my friend Amy for correctly pegging Adam's dated look as "My Chemical Romance, circa 2005." And then helpfully explaining that "Usually American Idol is 10 years behind the zeitgeist.")

And once again Adam screams his way into peoples' hearts. Except mine. He screamed, screeched, yelled, made too many unnecessary frills and runs and swoops, overdid it, fucked me with his range without even buying me dinner first (seriously, put it away, dude, it's not impressive if you don't know how to use it, no matter how big it is), and when he didn't do that, he was too busy moaning and humping the mic stand, making rapeface eyes and generally trying far too hard to act like he's sexy.
He gave this air of "Do you like cake? Do you like my ass? Do you want to eat cake off my ass?" No I don't. Go away. Take your hideous v-neck shirt with you. It doesn't look good on any guy, even an attractive one. Shoo, you 80's hair band reject wannabe.

OK, I feel much better now.

And I'm just so happy that my boy Anoop showed up last night. First Slumdog Millionaire, and now this.

Anyway, as for predictions. I'm having a hard time with this because of the Megan factor. I think she deserved to be bottom three, and DialIdol seems to confirm it, but wonder if a sympathy factor -- both on the part of voters and of the producers -- might come into play. (Oh, and check out this gem, which says the final four are predetermined, as I've long suspected, which makes these weekly predictions even more hopeless.)

My gut says the bottom three are Allison, Michael and Megan. DialIdol says Alexis, not Michael. I'm going to say it's the end of the road for Allison. (And because I don't have a pool and don't actually have to narrow it down, the alternate scenario is that it's Alexis in the bottom three and perhaps even going home, and she'll be "saved" by the judges.)

In the mean time, I'm going to try not to have nightmares about this face.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

American Idol, Week One Predictions

For the last five or six years or so, I've been way into my American Idol pool. Came in second one year. And third last year, if I remember right.

So I was devastated to learn that there will be no pool this year. Woman that runs the thing had the nerve to go and get pregnant.

Without an outlet, I'm going to impose upon all of you and post my weekly predictions. Just for fun and stuff.

Bottom three tonight:
Jasmine (the girl needs three years to grow up, get some edge, and shake that slightly plastic, pageanty vibe she's got going on)
Jorge (something about him feels very 1981)

And just for fun I'll say Megan, although the third spot was kind of a toss up for me. While she's arrestingly pretty, got cool tats and some interesting vocals, she's way too one trick pony to go the distance. And, um, Rockin' Robin??

Going home:

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Shame on you, ABC

We've all been bemoaning how low reality tv is sinking. That's nothing new.

But when is ABC going to come to its senses and put a stop to the trainwreck that is The Bachelor? I mean, for real. It's simply gone beyond any semblance of human decency now. 13 seasons. 1 wedding. Congratulations, ABC. You're a regular cupid.

For anyone who doesn't know what I'm talking about, in last night's Season Finale, Bachelor Jason (who proposed to Bachelorette DeAnna Pappas in last season's finale and was rejected) proposed to finalist Melissa. Only to dump her on the "After the Final Rose" special and then ask if the rejected first runner-up, who he sent packing in the Season Finale, might reconsider. And then proceeded to make out with her. On national television. And there's a blogger who claims to have reliable inside information that this was all planned in advance.

I don't want to sound all stick-in-the-muddish, and I don't usually get my back up about stuff like this, but enough is enough. We all have to stop this, as intelligent adults. We, as viewers, must stop watching. Companies, as advertisers, must stop advertising. We, as consumers, must stop supporting those companies who are advertising. The idea that something as important as picking a spouse can be the result of a eight week televised reality competition is disgusting. It's manipulative. It's an embarrassment to the sanctity of marriage...not that that's a loaded phrase or anything.

I distinctly remember one of the voiceovers from a previous season (yes, I've watched many of them) as the final decision loomed. I don't remember which bachelor it was (they all sound alike after a while), but he was bemoaning how difficult the final decision was. "I'm in love with two women. I can't believe how torn I am. How can I possibly make this choice?"

Well, the answer, in the real world, is you don't. If you're really that torn up about loving two people at once, it just might be a sign that this isn't the right time to ask one of them to spend eternity with you. Or, more precisely, to present them with a promotional Neil Lane diamond. (Did you see how prominently that name flashed when he opened the box?? Ugh.)

As I'm writing this, I can't even believe how ridiculous all this sounds. And don't even get me started on the fact that Jason Mesnick is a father, for God's sake. Way to go, dude. Show your son what it means to be an upstanding man. And don't worry. Molly will be a great stepmom! Just look at the way she spent 20 minutes playing kite and splashing in the ocean with you! No prob! A Television Without Pity poster wrote, "I hope Jason's ex-wife is out hiring a lawyer to try to get full custody of Ty." Hear, hear.

Whether it's all scripted, or these people are actually deluded enough to try to find life partners this way, I don't care anymore. Just stop it. Stop it. Stop it. Stop it.