April 2, 2009

A or B?

Filed under: American Idol,Family — Tags: , , , , , — denise @ 4:04 pm

A little quiz.

Which was more disturbing to my husband Kory?

A. When my daughter worked his entire jump drive into a full can of Diet Mountain Dew


B. When my daughter pooped in the bathtub and then lifted her tiny hands out of the bubbles and handed the turd to him, which he took – not realizing it wasn’t a toy.

Which was more distrurbing to me?

A. Scott “Blind Guy” on American Idol’s creepy mullet/perm and mini-vampire fangs.


B. Scott “Blind Guy” on American Idol’s lack of talent and horrible, smarmy Barry Manilow bullshit song choices that make me cringe and then feel bad because my years of diversity training make it VERY DIFFICULT to effectively make fun of this guy.

Which was most disturbing to The Teen?

A. Having a pregnant mom with diarrhea in a house with ONLY ONE BATHROOM.


B. Closing the bathroom door and finding his pregnant mom’s underpants hanging off the hook on the back of the door, after she forgot them there while showering.  PLUS SIZE MATERNITY UNDERPANTS.

Which was the most disturbing to The Toddler?

A. No more stickers.


B.  Seriously, there are no more stickers. I know you can not fathom living another moment in a world without stickers. Lots of stickers. Flower stickers. Easter stickers. Fairy stickers. Pooh stickers. Mickey Mouse stickers. WHY EVEN BREATHE IF THERE ARE NO STICKERS?!!!!

February 21, 2009

More AmIdol postcards…

Dear Norman Gentle,

I would imagine that the judges are in the same weird place that I am in that you are obviously talented, wildly entertaining to watch, completely likable… and yet, so thoroughly not appropriate for this show.

And when Nick tried to sing it straight…and then couldn’t get through the song without your true Norman-ness bursting through in fit of Ethel Merman/Liza Minelli channeling wonder… ah, priceless.  But not, you know, Idol.

Also, I feel required to point out that no self-respecting Man Diva would wear khaki shorts or that dreadful headband. The sparkle shirt and the old/new/retro/Kanye-esque glasses are remarkably (and regretably) trying to come back into style.  Lord, spare us.

Your friend,


ps. Can I suggest more JAZZ HANDS?


Dear Nick,

It didn’t work for Paul Rubens (PeeWee Herman) and it didn’t work for RuPaul Andre Charles (The fabulous RuPaul).  It’s not working for you.

Nick is as bland and boring and Norman is funny and endearing.

You started with Norman, you are going to have to stick with him and just ride the ride as far as it will go.

Your friend,


Ps. More jazz hands!


Dear Headband Boy Who Cries ALL The Time,

First of all, it’s driving me insane that I can’t figure out who you look like. Because you LOOK LIKE SOMEONE.  Some kid in some movie… a western?… MY BRAIN IS MELTING FROM TRYING TO FIGURE IT OUT. Meanwhile, I’m dealing with the 1) headband 2) Twin Chin Spikies 3) the skin tight jeans with the bare feet 4) the purple pants 5) the endless array of scarves. It’s as if Steven Tyler, Cher and Pinhead are fighting for fashion dominence.

Honey… listen.  I know you’ve had a hard life.  I know you live with your Gram and your mom is in jail and no one accepts you because of your headband/spikies/scarves and I certainly agree that all people should have a place in life where they feel accepted and appreciated for who they are.  I do!

HOWEVER. There is a little thing is life called COMPROMISE.  If I want to be taken seriously and accepted by others, I don’t – for example –  paint my face with chocolate frosting and fashion outfits out of double-ply toilet paper.  It’s… you know… TOO MUCH.  And if I did choose to break the fashion/social acceptance barrier and do my own thing, I damn well wouldn’t cry about it.  If you want to be wacky ole Nathaniel, then do it!  But do it with pride, damn it.

Your friend,


ps. I’m never going to be ok with the headband.


Dear Matt,

You, my dear, are my second favorite behind Danny.  Certainly, you could move up because Danny has made it clear that he’s pretty sure he’s THE SHIT and while that was a turn on when I was 19, not so much now.  You have a Buble-ness about you that is adorable and I love your voice. I love the idea of a dueling piano guy making the big time, while a bar full of adoring fans get to see their local guy make good.


The only thing… and every season I wrestle with this… is that… well, you’re already a professional.

..and I just can’t decide if that bugs me or not.

I think it does.  Local boy dueling piano guy with 2 CDs out?  Doesn’t have the same ring….

Your friend,



Dear Kristin,

You know, I kind of like that you are sort of awkward… and wear clothes that look like you dressed in the dark.  I kind of like that you have that weird run/waddle/walk and the stupid stripey hair…because it makes you seem so human. Your social ineptitude and bizarre way of presenting yourself is… oddly likable.

You’ve got a little Melissa Joan Hart in you.  A little Mena Survari…

We know you can sing and if we could connect to you as the girl next door… man, you could be the unlikely one that goes really far — the one that Simon called the “not pretty one” could take the whole thing.


What is THIS?

and this………………………….> 

and THIS:

You were on Nashville Star and apparently finished 3rd?

So, what’s with the bumbling around?  What’s with the faux nervousness and the cute little girl act?

I don’t like being duped, Kristin.

Your friend,



Dear Roughneck,

Congrats on making it into the Top 12.  Honestly, I was hoping for Anoop.

I’m not convinced that you can really sing, but I do like your story – and you can thank Bruce Willis and the rest of the cast of “Armegdon” for that.

I’m not trying to be mean, but there is one image that comes to mind repeatedly when I look at you.

That is all.

Your friend,



Dear Carly and Michael,

Don’t ever EVER EVER EVER EVER do that again.

Your friend,


February 9, 2009

Postcards to the American Idol hopefuls.

Filed under: American Idol,Television — Tags: , , , — denise @ 4:57 pm

Dear Bikini Girl,

A few items:

1. You clearly didn’t realize it then, but you will when you watch the show… you were never talented enough. They put you through only to piss off Paula and Kara. And you knew that, right?  Thus the bikini and all?

2. The dress with the cut-off shoulders?  Yeah.  Only hookers living in the penthouse with Richard Gere wear dresses with large parts of the fabric cut out.  And, really, she only wore them until she got the charge card.

3. Gross out with the making out with Ryan against his will.  However, it seems to play right into what appears to be your long term goal of replacing Tara Reid as the next Skanasaurus Rex.

Your pal,



Dear Blind Guy,

This is what it’s like (so far) when I watch you perform:

I like him!

He’s good!

Wait, he’s not that good…

Do I only think he’s good because he’s blind?

Kind of like how I only liked that Turkey Farmer Kid because he was all turkey farmer-ish?

No, he’s good…

and look at him playing the piano!

And he can’t even SEE THE KEYS!

Wait.  That’s not very PC.

Would I still be impressed that he can play the piano if he could see?

It’s a good thing he doesn’t see all those gaudy gold-framed mirrors on his parent’s wall…

Hmm.  That was mean.

He’s pretty good… and that high-five with Seacrest was pretty funny…

Your pal,



Dear Tatiana,

It appears that you maybe think you are Evita.  Or maybe Shakira or Miss America.  Or a hysterical braying donkey that blows kisses at people?  Who does that overly dramatic blowing kisses thing, again?

Oh yeah.

Your pal,



Dear Danny,

AKA, Robert Downey Jr, pre-drugs, pre-rehab, pre-jail.

My money’s on you, baby.




Dear Osmond Guy,

If all things Osmond didn’t terrify me, I’d like you.

However, it goes like this:

1. Clowns

2. Dolls that move or have secret powers

3. Dark alleys

4. Osmonds

5. Dental work

6. Spiders


Your pal,



Dear Anoop,

You have a nice voice, actually… but the problem is, nothing you have sung so far goes well with the constant soundtrack in my head.

Noop! Noop de doop.  Noop de doop de doop de doop.  YOU MAKE ME WANT TO NOOP NOOP NOOP…


Your pal,



Dear Adam,

Rock on you little Emo cutie-pie.

Careful… there is a line with black hair dye, eyeliner and chain accessories.

There is a line that CAN be crossed.

Are you a little David-ish?  Yeah.  Do you have a similiar giant forehead.  Yep.

But you can also SING, dollface.

Go gettum.




Dear Jesse (Jessica) Langseth,

Hi Johnny Lang’s little sister.

Didn’t think we’d find out, did ya?

Well, guess what HOMETOWN GIRL… we know now!!! And we loves you!!!

Your pal,



And a special note to our new judge, Kara…

Dear Kara,

I’ve been prepared to dislike you for quite some time.  I’d heard, months before the show started, that you weren’t particularly kind to contestants.  That you sang, occasionally, to show them how a song was SUPPOSED to sound.

From early pictures it was clear that I was going to have issues with your wardrobe and jewelry (it can never be as bad as Paula, right? Right?!)…

After seeing you on, I don’t know, 6 shows so far between the auditions and whatnot?

I like you.

A lot.

I would say the things you would say, and I would sing a song to show someone how it was supposed to be done if I was a Grammy-winning songwriter/artist.  I would!

So, cram it, Rob.  She rocks.  :p



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