Charleston: A city in South Carolina, the Friendliest City In America, a wondrous dance, a delicious Chew. And, perhaps, the home of our American Idol. Ryan "sure [is] glad y'all could join him" there. Of all the lovely cities in the American South, I can honestly say I've never once considered Charleston. Based on the screaming-crowd B roll, it is a town full of beautiful people. Whether or not the fact that they've decided to play "Let's Get Retarded" over the intro package signifies, I cannot say, but one person who speaks well of the place is the adorably young married professional Oliver Hymen (?), whose totally pregnant wife just went into labor, cruelly ending his dreams like an amniotic tsunami. Perhaps he'll be back. I certainly hope so, he's great.
Not great: Rayshard! (27, Atlanta.) Imagine young Michael Jackson's hair on the black Clay Aiken -- and it's the kind of Clay Aiken fan that is proud of the resemblance, and it's the kind of audition where the resemblance is, sadly, unreal. He sounds ridiculous and gay and -- to quote Randy and Paula respectively -- "over the top" and "theatrical." Simon compares him to the classic "cruise ship cabaret" and even wonders if perhaps a magic trick would not have been out of place in the performance.
up: Gross, foulmouthed cornpone waitress DeAnna Prevatte (26) from Albemarle NC, just like Kellie Pickler. Whose video for "Red High Heels," we see, is totally adorable. Who knew? She curses at the judges hideously about the Sunday-morning buffet crowd, horrifying everybody, and gets aggressive and weird with Simon right out the gate. She sings "Fancy," which as you know is the best song ever written about whoring, and a big favorite of mine. She is not a good singer, although it doesn't sound too bad, but sometimes a silk purse is not on the horizon, and this is one of those times. "You're a little tiger, aren't you?" asks Simon, and then she explains how she has strange capitals in the middle of her name. He describes her performance as "angry," and gives a straight-up no, as do the other two. Simon promises if he ever finds himself at her restaurant, he won't overload her workload, and she shoots daggers that actually scare the shit out of him for once. You know what's cuter than regular Simon? Almost nothing, correct, but I will say that Simon at a loss is just slightly cuter. Randy's like, "I hope that she doesn't wait for you in the parking lot," and Paula thinks about how she can get a gun into the girl's hand without getting fingered.
Every crowd shot contains this one hot guy with curly hair, and then you see the fruits of white-trash Abilene video game love. They met on the AI.com message boards, of course. The girl one is cute, quotes Yoda, the whole bit, and he has a ponytail. I'm going to say some words: bisexual polyamory. Magic tricks. Renaissance Faire. Klingon costume. Bondage and domination. Those are just some words for you. Their names are Randy Stark (27, Abilene TX) and Crystal Ortiz (26, Raleigh NC). They give us a hideous duet of "She's More" by Andy Griggs (?), which is a song apparently about how lowered expectations are a double-edged sword, which at least shows some kind of intelligence on their parts. He's not...they are kind of adorable, in a double-wide kind of way, but they cannot sing, and that's why we're here, so please, please, go away. The judges are nice, and we're treated to the third slo-mo gross shot of them kissing like neither of them ever kissed a person before they met, and are mostly going along with the kissing they've seen on TV, which is exactly what they are, which is why you should always have sex with lots of people before you commit, because this is the blind and sexless leading the blind and sexless here.
Another duet, two chubby black siblings who are I think a giant homo and his stolid fairy princess. That's Jeffery and Michelle Lampkin (24 and 26, Newberry and Fort Mill SC), and they couldn't be less interesting. The dude one talks horribly for a long time about nothing at all and screams at the judges a lot, and then they sing "I'll Be Your Angel," by R. Kelly. They both have good voices, and way too much screaminess crapping all over the goodness of their voices; their creepiness is powerful both separately and in the aggregate. Simon notes the weird incest-y vibe, and how strange the gayness of Randy makes that. Simon likes the guy one's voice more than his sister's, and praises their chemistry. The judges all really like his voice, which is surprisingly nice, but then put them both through! I can't believe it! Although I agree, I must say that he does not need any encouragement at this time. Jeffery makes a fool of himself out in the hallway and nearly has three heart attacks. Ugh, calm down.
Another place where it's hot in the summer is Charleston SC, so if you're interested in making a list of all the places where it's hot in the summer in America, add it to the list. Thanks, show. Oliver Hymen still exists, also FYI -- we join them in their car and the wife is like, "Yeah, sure. I'll fucking chat with your asses while driving to the airport in a strange city." Then, a "Before He Cheats" montage: some lady who is totally freaky, a cute little nervous needy trashy guy, hottie in a kit and headband, trashy dude, two weird chicks, Elvis, chubby shirtless dude who is not serious, a girl with a disorder, an amazing nerd, a girl in a party dress with red-dyed afro who makes up a whole verse that doesn't rhyme and whose hair is not operating correctly, weird screamer girl again, a gay ginger dude, a skinny lame girl, the end.
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.
Failures, to the tune of a They Might Be Giants song: A girl who might be hearing impaired and sings the Hills song, What If K-Fed Was Cute, Ryan looking totally adorable, a girl in polka dots, a girl dressed as Ryan Starr, a chubby cute blonde, a princess from Mars, a girl in the grips of possession by forces eldritch and rare, an angry little child of about ten who rips up her non-golden ticket, several trashy meth-addicted creeps, a fun cute black guy who is shocked to find out he's not going to Hollywood and makes a scary face, an inbred girl who can't apply makeup and looks like a raccoon and also prays to them, a club-kid black girl who looks like a scary drag queen, a nerdy pair of boring guys, a woman in a black sun dress and sun hat who looks like if Pamie were less pretty and kind of a hoss, a guy in a suit with a t-shirt showing (?), some pissed girl in an ugly mod dress with plastic hoop earrings, a crying lesbian in a dashiki with a guitar who just needs a chance, a refreshingly original girl giving the total hand to the camera, Aughra from The Dark Crystal, a guy in a polo, a disapproving and disappointed Asian girl, a pretty black girl in a yellow dress, a weird little blonde guy with a soul patch, a spazzy blonde, another dude that looks the same as everybody else, a gender-estranged individual...
Oh, thank God. Oliver's got a child named Emma Grace suddenly, whom Ryan berates for having bad timing -- and the way Ryan is, I'm sure he'd get born on time -- and finally he gets to sing. Oliver Highman -- Joe R! It's "Highman!" Doesn't that make so much more sense? -- is 27, from Cornelius NC, and sings "Get Here," and it sounds great, and he's totally adorable, but the voice is wispy and a little screechy and the vibrato is untrained. He sweetly offers to show them the baby anyway, and Simon and Ryan try to make their kid all about them, branding her with AI before the happy couple even knows what's going on. Oliver is the best thing in the entire world and he's total class, and I'm glad we went out on a high note.
Get it? "High note"? Whatevs, I'm running on empty here. Have you been watching this shit? It's like a fucking IV of coma.
HOLLYWOOD! WHEN WILL YOU COME?