heeheeheeHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!
I have three words for you...
SLEEPY.
CHURCH.
BOY.
(insert dance of joy here)
WHOO-HOO!!!
Yeah, yeah, he does sound a little like Tom Jones. And yeah, whatever he did last night was kinda weird. But I loved it. Yep. Loved it. Watched it about 30 times with the help of my Tivo. Y'all may think I'm crazy but apparently, I'm not.
Apparently, America AGREES with ME.
So, there.
Not that I'm bragging. Or gloating. Or...
...aw, hell...
...I'm both bragging AND gloating. I can't hold it in any longer:
IN YOUR FACE, Sleepy Haters!!!!!!!!!!!!!
It's all about the Sleepy.
(here we shall enjoy a small moment of silence to allow me some time to pull myself together and return to the sane side of the street...)
Okay. Sorry about that.
I did not post last night due to the fact that I was, sadly, working and thus did not get to enjoy my Wild Card night until very early this morning. Thus, I both begin and end my day with a good healthy dose of AI3.
Last night was kinda crazy as we watched four contestants heaped with humiliation by Paula, Simon and Randy as they were informed on live national TV that they were not considered good enough to perform for America. How mean was that? They dragged them before the cameras only to force them to feel the mock and scorn of the nation. Oh, it was evil.
But fun.
I was spared the song stylings of Tiny Dancer and Yodeler. That in itself was a gift from the gods. I was spared the odd circa 1975 circa Farrah Fawcett-on-crack hair stylings of Tiara. An extra special gift. And I was spared the gooey fleshy center of Lisa/Lolita. Which wasn't such a gift as I think dissing Lolita and choosing Ohio Boy was robbing Peter to pay...well, not Paul. Hmmm. Just insert some whatever metaphor that for you means HORRIBLE STUPID PRETTY PEOPLE WHO CAN NOT SING. Poor Lolita. Grrrrrrl, I told you to keep that belly to yourself.
Then we watched the lucky 8 sing. Not so lucky for most as they mainly howled and screeched like kitty cats dipped in boiling oil. But there was Sleepy -- who I won't even talk about any more here lest I lose my mind again with love and joy. And there was Leah -- who I still can't stand although if I listen to her with my eyes closed I don't hate as much since I don't have to look into her smug, too-sexy-for-this-world, so in love with herself, trying to be an R&B diva FACE. And there was George -- who seriously worked his THANG up there with his performance, forcing me to change my opinion of him and root for him to make it all the way.
And then there was Jenny From the Block -- who is now at the top of on my National Fashion Security Watch List with a Visual Threat Rating of Bravo Red and a Stylist Alert of DefCon One. Think last night's fashion disaster was an isolated incident? No, no, NOOOOO. Don't blame that George guy. BLAME JENNY. Let's recap shall we? There was 1) the cheap man made fiber dress she wore to audtion, 2) the silver one piece Space Man jumpsuit she wore to Hollywood, 3) the white leather nurse outfit she wore to Round One and 4) the Carmen Miranda polyester hot pink sausage atrocity she sported last night. All of which she wore proudly under a mane of hair she clearly stole off her Raggedy Ann doll. Federal Troopers should be storming her closet any minute now if we are lucky. If there is any justice in the world someone will stop her before she shops again.
It's a good thing that Jenny From the Block can sing and is so very sweet or else she never would have made it into the Final 12. Or perhaps its simply a good thing that Randy knows what it is like to be a bad dresser (remember the photos we saw last season of him in his younger days?). I knew that Paula would pick Leah. Sadly, we will now have to suffer the insufferable tot for the rest of the season -- eliminate her quickly, y'all. I was SHOCKED that Simon picked Georgie. Thrilled but shocked. It is so not Simon's style. However, last year, Simon picked Goat Girl so perhaps he is trying to make up for the plague he unleashed upon us all by picking someone America likes. And then there was America's pick...
Okay, okay. I'm shutting up about Sleepy already. Geez.
The finalists were announced and then they sang. But before that, Ruben came out to do a tune from his album and give a bit of advice to the hopefuls. Three things about this: 1) Ruben has gained a noticeable amount of weight. I am now officially worried about my first love. Velvet or not, the Teddy Bear has to drop at least a buck fifty if he's gonna live to see 30. 2) It's odd having last year's Idol come back. As with Kelly, Ruben seems wildly out of place and somehow dated in the AI mix now. He feels very old school, very last year. You adore him but you kinda want him off the stage so you can see what's gonna happen NEXT. 3) Rickey made a quick appearance having become an official member of what I like to call the 205 Posse. It's nice that Rickey and Ruben are close friends. Maybe too close. Did anyone else notice that Rickey's gained an extra 30 or 40 pounds since last season? The buddies who eat together...well, you can see what happens.
From the Desk of Things That Make You Go Hmmmmmm: Did anyone else notice that Wild Card Contenders Tiny Dancer, Jenny from the Block, Bubbly Katie and Ohio Boy were all refugees from Group One? Which means that this year Finalists Jenny From the Block, Fantasia and Fluffy Puppy are all from this year's Group One? Three of the best singers. Do you remember who was in Group One last year? Ruben, K-Lo AND Clay. Is this the stuff of grassy knolls and second shooters? Or simply mysterious voodoo magic? Hee.
As the 12 Finalists grooved the tunes of Sleepy and the credits rolled, did anyone else spot Simon with his head in his hands, depressed? Poor thing. I think he was NOT joking when he told Ruben that he would pay him to return to the competition.
I took a good look at the Final 12. And I will be shocked, SHOCKED, if Fantasia doesn't walk away with the whole thing. But it will still be fun to see exactly how it all goes down.
Next week, the REAL COMPETITION BEGINS!!!!
This is Shonda, reporting live from my chaise longue.
