OK, it's no secret I hate, abhor, detest results nights. They are long, stuffed fuller than a Build-A-Bear in the hands of a new employee, and simply insulting to the audience.
So, forgive me if I FF a lot through these eps. I take many a bullet for you people, but rehashing garbage from the previous night is like watching paint dry.
No, my apologies to paint. Watching paint dry is actually more exciting. Watching a results show is more boring and protracted than the line at the DMV.
So let's get this over with, shall we? I have inner eyelids I would like to gaze upon.
What an opening! Footage of the kids interspersed with a Clash of the Titans trailer!
Because, like, OH MY GAWD!, they're so much alike! Men and Gods! Idols & Judges!
BOOM! One day somebody's gonna have to take a stand... BOOM! (cut to Tim Urban! Hair mightier than the snakes on Medusa's head!)
BOOM! One day somebody's gotta say "Enough." BOOM! (Like Andrew! Yeah - he's ready to summon Poseidon to forever wash away the memories of Straight Up!)
Lots of flashes! Lots of video cuts! Then Liam Neeson! Release the Karaken!
Eeeesh. What an overblown opening. Yes, the movie looks entertaining (although I still weep for the memory of Harry Hamlin interacting with Bubo the metal owl.), but COME ON. Could we possibly whore things out a little harder?
This show is all but standing on a street corner wearing smeared lipstick and ripped fishnets.
The doors opened, puking forth Ryan in a supernova of white light. A quicky hello to the judges - Randy in yet ANOTHER cardigan. This one bright blue with a gold birdie on the boob; Ellen in a plaid shirt and pinstripe jacket; the Karaken wearing satin and pearls; and Simon in basic black.
The kids were assembled on the Couches of Constipated Emotion, but no results just yet! Let's welcome Season 2 winner, or at least half of him - Ruben Slim-n-Trim Studdard!
He looked pretty great - healthier for sure. Still a big boy, but he has lost quite a bit of weight since the last time he showed up. He performed his latest single Don't Make 'Em Like You Anymore, and I have to say - Ruben has grown into quite a performer. Much more personality, and still that smooth, silky voice.
Most notable? His head did not Niagra forth under the hot lights. Botox that bald pate, Ruben?
Afterwards, Ryan talked to him about his new physique - he works out and is vegan. Ryan had Big Mike come over to temporarily Oreo cookie him in between the big men. That was funny. Ryan is positively petite.
Ruben then pimped his new album and his upcoming summer tour with Clay AIken. That should be a good one.
AFTER THE BREAK Ryan cued the Ford Vommercial, a waste of time set to Kung Fu Fighting in which the kids (all but Casey) dressed in Chinese waiter costumes. (Anyone catch Crystal? She looked completely disgusted to be involved. Sorry dear, one makes a deal with the devil, one must dance to the devil's tune, and that tune tonight was Kung Fu Fighting.)
OK, finally the lights went down, and the most drawn out results began. Lee, stand up, then let's all talk about Lee, to Lee, what's Lee's favorite color, dreams for his grandchildren, childhood pets, etc. Then let's announce him SAFE.
Casey, please stand up and let's recite the Gettysburg Address to waste time. Maybe they did, I just know I hit the 30 second fast forward THREE TIMES. SAFE.
Aaron, stand up, and say the alphabet backwards, then let's have the judges expound on why they love fruit rolls, and then have Karaken smack Simon a few times. Did that happen? I have no idea, FF. SAFE.
Siobhan and Katie please stand up. Siobhan, cry. Katie explain quantum physics. Judges, order some stuff from the IKEA catalog. Siobhan, stop crying, you are SAFE. Katie, you and your hooker boots, go take a stool.
As she crossed the stage, a large bug flew up Ryan's ass causing him to lean over the judge's table right in Simon's face again. Dude, you are NOT tough. Give it up. People are tired of watching you attempt to reassure yourself of your own virility on national TV.
Another break and we returned to learn from Ryan that next week's theme is the Lennon / McCartney songbook. Great! Time for another teenager to BF (and I do not mean best friend) Imagine. I swear, I hope John Lennon was buried on a rotisserie. It would certainly make the spinning in his grave a far sight easier.
And then, what to our wondering eyes should appear, but Justine Bieber in the audience, looking so dear!
Yes, Justine. Not Justin. That child looks and sounds like a 12 year old girl, not a 16 year old boy. I realize many people have young children who are over-the-moon about the latest incarnation of Aaron Carter, but the girls of Casa de Sharp? When (s)he comes on the radio, the dial gets cranked hard and fast.
Ryan then cued the prerecorded performance of Usher. This I enjoyed. Decked out in black from head to toe, save the silver sequined lapels, the man danced and sang with ease. The song was off Raymond vs Raymong and called OMG. He is so smooth, a natural born performer. Will.I.Am showed up at one point to make some noise, but Usher was the main attraction.
I am happy to report he cleansed the stage of the stain left behind by Ke$ha.
Then it was back to more drawn out results.
Didi, stand up, blather on about your song choice, the weather, ask the judges why do the stars goes on shining, why do these eyes of mine cry, then find out, SHOCK!, you are in the Bottom 3.
Big Mike, stand up, recite every word in the dictionary under the letter "Q", then have Ryan say, "Walk over here, please." MIke walked over, sphincter clinched in "You have got to be kidding me, I'm in the bottom?!?" then Ryan immediately said, "You are safe."
Cue superhuman strength (assisted by his Samson coif - a pink hair extension glued to the back of his head) egged on by Crystal who obviously does not suffer Ryan fools lightly. Big Mike full body picked Ryan up and should have dumped him on the Fembots, but he gingerly put Miss Seacrest back down.
Crystal, stand up - why waste time - SAFE.
Finally, Andrew and Tim stood together, grass grew, paint dried, I think I even saw Tim's hair grow an inch to the right - then Ryan announced Andrew was Safe and Tim was to join him and the ladies at center stage.
Oh hell, we don't need three of you! Katie go back to the couches. You are SAFE, but be warned - America obviously doesn't like you much.
Before we could find out that Didi was going home (come on - she doesn't have condom hair or abs) we had to endure P Diddy Daddy Puffy Diddlysquat - whatever the hell his name is this week.
Diddy Dirty Money? Um, ooooookayyyy. I think we should all get to change our names like we change our underwear. Hmmmmm, what will I be tomorrow? How about Anehole Lillypad? Skitchy Skatch Scratchy Snatch? That one just rolls off the tongue, doesn't it? Like a Dr. Seuss character ... if Dr. Seuss did porn.
With lights streaming down from heaven, something began bouncing on the stairs - I assumed it was Diddy, and the girls with him? Are they Dirty Money?
The stage was engulfed in fog, strobe lights, dancers, and one girl dressed all in black who began dancing like Chacha DiGregorio in the R&B version of Grease.
The song finally ended, and Diddy, so full of himself, ran around the judges to the little stage to bask in the producer induced applause. Dude, you should change your name to Hubris Hyperbole.
Finally, Ryan stood with Tim and Didi, and we found out what we knew from the beginning, Tim was safe, Didi had to "sing for your life." Yeah, right. But we'll play along.
She reprised Rhiannon - a truly decent effort - but it was certainly not a shock when Simon told her it was "bad news."
Cue journey tape, lots of tears, group hug.
I have only one question. How in God's name do they make 60 minutes feel like 360?
Forget Diddy's Hello, Good Morning - Goodbye, Good Night.