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Tuesday
Ryan's back in the Brightside black-and-whites, with some aggressive scrubble on his little chin. You know, I love Ryan, but it's hard to think of him as a boy or attractive in the conventional sense -- but darn, he looks nice this week. A lot of people seem to find it laughable, but like, the dude's pushing 60, I think, so it's nice for him took like something other than a mid-'50s cleaning product mascot. I mean, he still looks like everybody's mom's favorite costume fallback, Halloween Hobo, but at least it's the kind that looks fantastic, and I'm happy for him. Keep the beard! (Heh.) Ryan tells us that we're live, and that the week's theme is country. Which is exciting in that I am really freaked out by the awesomeness of Bucky Covington, and this week will probably prove to be no exception. And who better, Ryan wonders, to usher in tonight's irritating festivities, than one Mr. Kenny Rogers? He then goes on at length about Kenny Rogers, but the person we'll see tonight is...not Kenny Rogers. I don't know whose palm got greased for this shit, but whoever they're trying to pass off as Kenny Rogers, I'm not impressed. Or maybe I'm just confused about who Kenny Rogers is? Because I thought he looked like a truck driver, whereas the person we see tonight looks like he owns an antiques 'n' sundries store somewhere in the Valley. He looks like my grandma, but with a goatee. Mystic Tan. Something kind of overripe and Eric Roberts-y about the face. That burnt-looking chemical-peel skin, with the baby eyes blinking...he looks nice, for a type, and he's got the lovely white hair, but if you told me this was Merv Griffin I wouldn't be surprised. And considering he seems to spend the entire two days trying to bed Ace Young, it would be a tight fit.
It's all very Hollywood, Kenny's look these days, and we get a short shot of him singing the gambling song with the kids -- Bucky playing guitar and on the edge of exploding with glee -- before we're in the thick of things. We cut to Kenny's clips with, and about, Taylor. Whom Kenny seems to think sucks. Basically, Kenny says, if he can "make the song his" and "make it feel important," he'll be okay. But that's not what Taylor does. It's hard to take anything seriously, hard to feel "important" about a song, when the person singing it is twitching and wriggling -- or, as this week, singing it from the fetal position.