Boring and completely vacuous abstinent cheerleader Amy Catherine ("or A.C., whatevs") gives the judges a stupid long speech to the judges about how they shouldn't have sex. She's dumb and it takes too long and I don't like the idea that we're doing this at her expense. She sure is pretty, though, with big crazy lips and big crazy eyes. The judges praise her total pointlessness, and she and Simon agree that they are in like. Amy Flynn (16, Knoxville TN) sings "Reflection" by Xtina, and does a pretty good job of it. Randy's impressed, Paula is having I think a petit mal again, and Simon is playing it close to the vest. Paula describes her voice as "pure, innocent, beautiful," and she's not wrong. Simon laughs and tells her the song was too big for her; she disagrees and Simon goes off her like a bad box of leftovers, telling her she has no concept of how irritating she actually is; then they put her through unanimously. Simon tells her not to fuck Ryan, and Randy tells her to instruct Ryan on chastity, because one thing Ryan has is tons and tons of sex. "One week in L.A. and it'll all change," Simon laughs, imagining the total whoredom that awaits A.C. or whatevs one day when her hot ass finally hits puberty or whatevs.
Blonde girls that cannot sing and have weird southern trash names; Oliver Hymen has now reached the hospital, and he and his wife are both totally adorable. London Weidberg (24, Charleston-born and -raised) has some kind of stupid story happening, I'm sure. She's bony and looks like Alison Humphrey and has a fiancé and a mom who thinks afghans are clothing, and a dead dad. He died three years ago, interestingly enough, but apparently she should still qualify for a Home Makeover or whatevs is going on here. She sings "Good Morning Heartache" by Billie Holiday, and yet she does this in the regrettable style of the Pussycat Dolls. Great name, great face, accessibly slutty voice -- she's in, even though Simon points out that she is zero amounts of special in this world of cute blonde chicks that sing all slutty. She is joined at the end of Day One by fifteen people, including: a young gay black man with a Bobby Brown circa New Edition vibe, a screaming middling-hot guy, a screaming girl with screaming friends, a mom or transvestite, a nerdy girl from madrigal choir by the looks of things, and numerous jumpy screamy people.
I am so in love with that incredibly charming guy who can't leave the voicemail and keeps deleting it because he has so very many minutes on his cell phone. I don't watch commercials, but I always watch those ones, because he's the greatest thing on TV right now. I like it more than my favorite commercial, where the boy wanders the streets waiting for the girl to call, and then finally all the buildings in the city line up in order of height and then romance happens, which used to make me cry. I think of this voicemail man commercial less as a request for me to buy a product, since we have the same carrier -- me in real life, he inside the TV -- as a very short romantic drama, like the Twitter of love shows. Where have I seen that guy before? Man, I wish he had his own channel. Mark my words: you've seen him before and you'll see him again, because he is something special. And, I hear, a pretty good salsa dancer.
On Day Two, Charleston is no longer beautiful: jacked up teeth, nasty truck stop girls, obesity in all its forms. Randy's wearing his cutest outfit ever, a pink paisley shirt buttoned down to his Cowell and a giant cross. This girl looks like Julie Cooper with those scary pale eyes like Amanda on America's Top Model, but I hope she will not one day go blind, due to how she flies planes. I also hope that she does not have a child and name it Jah Wolf -- or cry about how meaningful it is that he was conceived at the precise moment of 9/11. She's in the Air Force, at which Simon scoffs, and she first thanks him and then tells him that's a stupid thing to say, essentially. Lyndsey Goodman (28, Charleston) sings "Black Velvet," and she's very nervous, but her voice is good. They caution her about nerves; Paula is wearing sleeves without a shirt attached to them. Unanimous no, sadly, but the judges aren't wrong. She takes it really well, and they bounce.
Welcome to the giant breasts and facial piercings of Aretha Codner (22, Buffalo NY). Paula tries to hide from the boobs, and Simon tries to make friends of them. As though it's surprising -- as though it was some kind of Scrabble-related coincidence -- the judges ooh and ahh to learn that she was named after Aretha Franklin. The singer. Anyway, she sings "I Have Nothing," while the breasts in her Bedazzled ice-blue ball gown appear to come to some kind of agreement, and go their separate ways. She has a huge silver belt, and an onion, and a totally cute asymmetrical haircut. What she doesn't have is a voice good enough to justify her bizarre look, or the ability to stop herself from bitching Simon out for a while for no real reason. He gets mean in return, and it goes on way too long between them. She keeps telling them that they're wrong and that she did a great job, as though her opinion matters, and Paula praises her confidence, which is an appropriate way of calling her an asshole and asking her to shut the hell up. This request is not fulfilled. Unlike Simon and the judges, though, I have the power to bleep-bloop, and will now use it. Oh wait, the best part is Paula's quietly murmured and strangely relevant non sequitur: "Is she married? What-ever."
Then: the same exact thing happening again right after that! Annoying screaming dude singing "I'm Not Going" as a joke -- I think and fervently hope, until my fast-forward reveals that it's untrue. He fully pisses Simon off by being completely rude and bitching at them and telling total lies and screaming into the camera and getting weird on Ryan. Shut up. I wasn't even going to give him a name, but I want you to know how fucking horrible and rude he is: Joshua Boson (20, Beaufort SC), you are a rude, crass individual who cannot sing, and you need to grow the eff up. Even though he's lying when he says that the judges told him in confidence that South Carolina is a pile of untalented trash that would be better off declared a no-go zone by the United States government, he...kind of adds to Aretha and the feeling that they might not be entirely wrong with this suggestion. I'm not saying there aren't lovely, intelligent, well-bred and talented people in South Carolina; I'm just saying it's more than likely that Aretha and Joshua ate them.