Jesse mugs and wriggles and screeches and wiggles and it's very tiring. Jeanine's awesome face and legs continue to be less than interesting. Ryan points to Alexis, Danny and Michael, who should only wear white so he doesn't look like a teamster, and then pulls Allison down to the stage. She's looking dumb as ever, and also walks like she has a hump. Ryan reads the responses to her, but duh. She was fucking awesome. He puts her on the side and brings down Jesse, who was great but is not long for this show. Then he brings down Bear Porn, who will hopefully keep that tasty mouth shut for the rest of this little skit, and then silently return to the labor class and we can all pretend this never happened.
Ryan asks Randy which of these three is going through, and instead of saying that it's obviously Allison, he says first that it's "gotta be" one of the two girls and that he hopes it's Allison. So then because Randy said it that way, Jesse has to nod and be like, "Yes, right out the box or whatever the hell." How excruciating. Anyway, Allison is the F, naturally. I just hope she can manage to locate the stool and sit down in it without injuring herself. Then she sings "Alone" again, and I don't know that I necessarily need to tell you about it again except to say that sometimes it feels really good to watch this show. And that I agree with Allison: "How do I get you, Malone?" is a much better lyric. (All the boys think she's a spy!)
Down come weird-dancing Megan (smoky, jazzy, cool and hip, relevant and unique) and O.C. castmember-looking Kris (rough, unimpressive, and/or nailed it). Do you remember that 30 Rock where Frank fell in love with Val Emmich? This dude is why. are Matt G ("I didn't get the chance to do enough yet," whatever the fuck that means) and Jeanine (owns legs). Of the four of them, one of them is in the Top 12. (Obviously it is Matt G.) Paula says she thinks it is Matt... Or Kris... Or Megan... Anybody but Jeanine, basically, who laughs; Paula responds to off-mic needling by Simon calling him a "gnat," and then Ryan sends Jeanine home. Then it's Matt G... WHAT? No Matt G? That's so fucked up.
So now it's Kris or Megan, who started this little session. Kara goes off again by how much she loved Kris at his auditions, and how disappointed she was by him not bringing it with the MJ. Simon makes fun of her for "rambling," and Kara gets defensive about how she's there to give them advice, and I'm on her side this time. She tells Megan she could be something one day, and Simon and Randy fuck with her to the point of her getting really pissed at Simon, and never does get to pick her pick. Ryan takes over and thanks Kara for her help, very politely getting on track and possibly saving Simon's worthless life, and then... Kris gets through. Wow, you guys, I did not see that coming at all, that is awesome. For my trick, I will make Kris Allen strip down to his American Apparel briefs and play a cello. Talk about your Wild Card round!
"What A Wonderful World" montage. And you know how I feel about those, and also WTF is the point of this? Oh, it actually is an old "What A Wonderful World" montage, like, verbatim. Wow, what went wrong there? "Ryan, you're going to have to vamp. I know we said the second useless half-hour of this would be a performance by Billie Holliday herself, but apparently she's dead. Do you have ... any old crap?"
But maybe they're just playing for time, because what's really happening here is that a special guest -- perhaps the most special guest possible -- is there with a piano, and probably they really did just need to kill time with that old shitty shit. I'm starting to think Naked Cello really is a possibility, you guys, because this episode is like a love letter to us all. Get this: Brooke White, singing her first single, "Hold Up My Heart," which dropped yesterday. OMG! The song itself is very, like, updated Carole King sort of singer-songwriter stuff -- like, there's a prominent bassline and a simple melody -- that lacks only an exciting bridge to take it to the level. Even a key change, White. Come on. I am in actual love with you... Okay, well, there's a bridge but I wouldn't call it exciting. Huh. Well, first singles I never like, though. For every "Bliss" there's a "1000 Oceans," or... some less embarrassing example.
Three hours this week, four hours week? Come on, just kick these bitches to the curb and let us get on with the business of living. He calls down everybody, and talks to them. Mishavonna's "Drops Of Jupiter" impressed only me and Paula, but then I'm immune to the preternatural self-possession that makes Dakota Fanning so creepy to people. Kai is Anwar and we might as well accept that. Ryan passes Nick and Adam by, which makes everybody laugh because duh, and goes to Jasmine. She is sweet and so very cute and so Bedazzled it's amazing. He sends them all back to the choices, where Megan and Matt G look like they're dying right before your eyes.
"That leaves us with these three: Nick, Normund and Adam." Simon says he prayed for five or six hours nonstop to send Nick home, and Adam's pants are... Much like Clay Aiken and Constantine Maroulis, they could stand to keep a few more secrets. The reason Age Of Innocence is sexier than 9 1/2 Weeks is the exact reason Adam should rediscover the concept of underwear, like, today. If the whole idea is to make us wonder what sex with you is like, stop demonstrating for us what sex with you is like, and what your penis looks like, and what your o-face looks like, because first of all I sort of feel like I've already done you, which is instant death to smoochy, but mostly because out here in the world, actual sex is the least sexy thing there is: sometimes pornographic cinema films are appropriate, and sometimes they are stomach-turning, and you have to know the difference. I guess when I asked for adult male homosexuality instead of that creepy Keroppi dickless gayness of Clay and Danny -- and let's not forget Nate week -- I should have been more specific, because I got exactly what I asked for:
Nick and Adam. Nick or Adam. I prefer Adam pretty much every way there is, but it's still pretty awesome that it comes down to this. Nick is going home, and Adam is through to the Top 12. Everybody cheers for Nick, and Adam is all about him, and then sings his little song again. And the fact that it's a note-for-note, shot-for-shot reiteration of last night is more than anything comforting, because it means that this is an act and not a psychotic sex break, and he's capable of turning it on and off. So anyway, that's half of the Top 12, and then Wednesday we'll get three more, and then on Thursday we'll have the last three Wild Cards, and then the show can start. And we'll never have to deal with Nate Marshall or Nick Mitchell again.
I like the Top 36 thing. It seems to be driving America nuts, but I like the option of seeing 36 awesome people because it means all three Semifinal weeks, you're actually involved in the show because it could be anybody. I like that. Usually it's a lot easier to separate the wheat from the chaff on this show, but there are fewer people in the 36 that were just never going to make it than I expected, and that's exciting.
So week it's Arianna Afsar (?), Felicia Barton (who replaced Joanna Pacitti), Kendall Beard, Kristen McNamara (ugh), Taylor Vaifanua and Lil Rounds for the ladies. I hope that Lil doesn't choke again, because she seems like a shoo-in, but I wouldn't be surprised if Kristen makes it, just because God doesn't give with both hands. And on the boy side, there's cannon fodder Alex Wagner Trugman and Nate Marshall, safe choices Jorge Nunez, Junot Joyner and Scott MacIntyre, and Von Smith who also seems like a shoo-in. I don't know who the N will be, though. I'm guessing Scott but we will see.
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