Reenactment

So I'm hula hoping while I'm watching American Idol last night. I do that sometimes, when I really want to smoke a cigarette. I figure I'll 1) Not smoke and 2) Be working my way toward some killer abs. Anyway, they get ready to announce the bottom three. Lisa Tucker, no surprise there. Ace Young, a surprise but a pleasant one, because homeboy's a tool. Then it's down to Boyfriend Bucky (That's right, I said it.) and McPhee. I'm sad at this point, because even though I know it's inevitable, I'm not ready to say goodbye to Boyfriend Bucky. (That's right, I said it again.)

When they called McPhee's name, I gasped, dropped my hula hoop and then tripped over it. This is what American Idol does to me.

HA!

How does that slice of humble pie taste Miss McPhee?

HA! YOU GOT LESS VOTES THAN BUCKY! GO BUCKY! GO BUCKY!

Come to think of it, she also got less votes than Pickler. She should probably go kill herself.

Stapp the Insanity!

Yo dawg, check this out. I wasn't really feelin' last night's 'American Idol'. It didn't work for me, dawg. In other words... P.U. The performances sucked ass and judging by the looks of some of them, the stylist was in a revenge-seeking mood. What the hell happened?

Going into this round, Daughtry was already starting to wear thin with me with his repetitive crap "rock" song selections and his over-strained vibrato. After last night? He is dead to me. One word: Creed. Oh and I just looked at his Idol profile and I have five more words: Favorite Male Artist: Rob Thomas.

It's official: I'm alienated. Put a fork in Chris. He's done. Even my girl KMcPhee was off, both in performance and attire. I know her fashion choices have been questionable in the past but last night's was the biggest question mark of all, for me at least. I sort of have blue balls as far as she's concerned (it's a painful, all-encompassing crush, you see) but after last night's outfit? The balls went from a deep blue violet to more of subdued shade of azure. Careful there, KMcPhee. Don't go messing with my balls.

Predictions:
Bottom Three: Lisa, Bucky and if there's justice once again, Ace. Dude's cheesy, man. CHEE-ZAY!
Going Home: Lisa

More 'Idol' Stress

'American Idol' continues to stress me out. Last night was no exception. My recap:

Lisa: Done.

Pickler: Stupid Whore. Somebody shoot her already.

Ace: The scar? Probably where someone stabbed him because HE SUCKS SO BAD.

Elliott: I still don't get it. I think he is terrible.

Mandisa: It was like Aretha Franklin ate Clay Aiken.

Bucky: I have no quarrel with Bucky.

Paris: Good perfomance. Bad "wake me up before you go-go" styling.

McPhee: She choked. Did not sing well at all. Less ego this time.

Chris: Creed. Rock. No.

Taylor: Scary jacket. Still my favorite. I voted for Taylor.

There should be a rule. NO ONE should be allowed to sing any Kelly Clarkson songs. EVER.

Banal

I have been watching 'American Idol' this season for the first time ever and it is stressing me out. I have never really watched a really-vote-someone-off show before and it's giving me anxiety. I like Taylor, Mandisa and Chris. I CANNOT STAND Kelly Picker and Katharine McPhee. I wish I could vote against them -- or at least smash their heads together. I don't care about any of the other contestants. Actually I sort of like Bucky ... but it's not like any of them are going to go anywhere anyway. Seriously. Ruben ate until he exploded, Fantasia is off learning how to read and I have seen Carrie in a Candie's ad but that is about it. Kelly Clarkson is an anomaly.

Run-on Sentences Regarding Chris Daughtry

The past couple of weeks, I've been a little wary of Chris Daughtry, my former 'American Idol' flame, kind of like when you have a boyfriend who you suspect is cheating on you, but you don't yet have any evidence except for that one night when he came home and immediately took a shower and he claimed he went to the gym but you don't think he actually did, you think he was probably fucking that girl he works with but you'll never say it because you'll sound paranoid and crazy. Yeah, it's like that. See, when he sang Wanted: Dead or Alive, he knocked my socks off. It was just the perfect song for him. Then he did a Fuel or Audioslave song and whatever because I so don't care about either of those bands but he, as Randy Jackson would say, "worked it out," and by "worked it out" I mean he was completely awesome, and if I were in the audience I so would have showed him my breasts. Then the week after, he did another Fuel or Audioslave song and I was kind of like, "snore" but his voice was still great and he's so ridiculously hot in a way that makes me a little uncomfortable because he looks like The Ex, but The Roommate assures me he's like 10 times hotter and really, anyone would love him so that made me feel better.

And then it was Stevie Wonder week. Stevie Wonder week was the week that made me think that, while Chris Daughtry should have been at the gym, he was fucking that girl he works with. He claimed he was really worried about having to sing a Stevie Wonder song. Why? Because he's a one-trick pony, but still a one-trick pony I would have been more than happy to uh, mount at that point. Then he realized that Higher Ground was a Stevie song, and so he decided to do an arrangement that would "blend the sounds of the Red Hot Chili Peppers with the sounds of Stevie Wonder" and really, it was RHCP karaoke night at 'American Idol', complete with a light show. And the judges collectively wet themselves and wept with joy while I thought one thing and one thing only: Chris Daughtry is cheating.

Which brings us to last night. Barry Manilow night. Now, I've been known to loudly sing Mandy to Mrs. F, because it's like, her name, but I'm no Barry Manilow fan by any means. That said, he was pretty likeable, but not likeable enough that I won't fast-forward him when he performs tonight. He too, was awed by Chris Daughtry's talent. I was wondering if, at that very moment, Chris Daughtry was buying his coworker, the pretty one who wears skirts that are too short, a drink before bending her over in a bathroom stall. But then I heard he'd be singing Walk the Line, and I thought maybe I was just being paranoid. He's a good old Southern boy, after all, and maybe we'd get to see a different side of him. And then he turned it into a Fuel or Audioslave song and that was it for me. It's one thing to, as Paula said over and over and over and over and over regarding Chris, "stay true to who you are" but it's another entirely to bastardize the music of one Johnny Cash and get praised for it. I am officially declaring Paula, Randy and Simon (who I'm most disappointed in) mad, and I'm also declaring Chris Daughtry someone who I no longer want to show my tits to. It was fun while it lasted, and now I'll just be content with my embarrassing crush on Bucky Covington.

Oh, and my prediction for tonight? Lisa Tucker's going home.

Later, Jesus Freak

I have many, many thoughts on this week's 'American Idol'. Like, skinny tie? Really Ryan Seacrest? And Ayla should have cried three weeks ago, because last night was the first time I really liked her. And it was totally awesome when McPhee and The Pickle both made it into the top 12 and were so happy because they're such good friends, for now anyway, and Paris, who's kind of starting to annoy me, tried to get in on their hug and they totally blew her off. Speaking of hugs, all the man love was adorable and made me hate Ace a little less, and I know I was really in love with him at first but he's doing that Justin Guarini thing where he makes sweet love to the camera and it's making me mostly want to punch him in the mouth. And Chris and Mandisa are too good to be on the show. Seriously, just give them record deals and be done with it. But I'm not going to delve too deeply into all that, because there's something that trumps everything else that happened this week. (Spoiler alert)

When Ryan Seacrest asked Gedeon how he felt about getting voted off, he said BY THE BLOOD OF JESUS I AM SAVED. And that's all I got.