This will be short. This week we're in Chicago. I only know about that Bean and that everybody who is from there is great. Well, except these angry turned-down people screaming hilarious curse words at the camera. It's quantity, not quality! Funny to watch, not actually that interesting to think about. I have decided to surround myself only with beautiful things, which is why I've stopped paying attention to the news or Teri Hatcher, but also to wit: the Brittenums were from Chicago. So there you are. Sunburns and bagpipes and Obama and Oprah and the horrible Brittenums. While a rip-off of "Baba O'Riley" morphs into the usual stunning excitement music. Ah, remember Obama fever? I still have it. Maybe they still have it in Chicago. I hope so. When you don't expect people to be magical, they can never let you down.
Like how Kara loves Shania Twain. See, that's sad. That's like convincing yourself Obama is going to personally gay-marry you and then getting pissed when he decides to deal with all the wars where people are dying and Depression where people are starving and complete intellectual breakdown where retards like Sarah Palin are making up science fiction stories about our country every single day first. That President Obama, he's a real chump for that.
So this one time, Shania Twain pissed herself. That don't impress me much.
First up: A whole lot of hair from Iowa. Katelyn Epperly (19, "West" Des Moines) is super-pretty and has a birthmark or zit right in the Stefani center of her forehead, located right around the tiny, tiny face of her. Her dad just split, so that's been hard on her mom. I don't think it will actually affect her singing, but we'll see. Mom goes, creepily, "She's doing this for me, you know." But who's she wearing those stupid boots for? Obama probably. She tells Simon straight-up that she's there because her dad moved out and her dog died and her mom lost at Bingo and they cancelled Dollhouse and things have been hard or whatever. I can't wait 'till she tries that shit in a real job interview.
Well, maybe she won't ever have to! Looks like being adorable and impressing Shania with her rendition of some Adele song might be her train right out of the hell of being a gorgeous, talented blonde.
And here I thought Shania was allergic to mayo.
You know how shitty it is when a girl has a big body and everybody always tells her how pretty she is? Luckily Amy Lang (26, Westchester OH) won't be getting that old routine. But she seems really pretty funny, and vivacious, which I guess is just as bad. She's really into Ryan Seacrest, which I sort of respect but also makes me want to cut her hating face with a machete. Like, she had a dream where they fucked, and tells Ryan all about it. It makes Ryan super-uncomfortable. But you know, I just recently had a dream where I cut her hating face, so obviously dreams mean nothing.
Simon reads something dumb from her Manufacture A Personality worksheet about her boobs, which is now two strikes, and then her opening move is to roll her eyes back into her head and collapse into a giant pile. I wish I could say the Judgery evinced an iota of concern, but honestly even if she's having a stroke right there in front of you, that is still fucking annoying. Even more so: She's not fainting or dying, just awful. Then she screams "Doctor Feelgood" like a perfect ass, and they all laugh at her screaming, and Simon hates her, because you can be fat or you can be white but don't you dare be that fat and that white at the same time around Simon Cowell. Then she jerks her boobs at them in this really aggressive, hurtful way. Simon finally shuts her ass down and cuts her hating face all up with his words. Ryan stands well out of the way of her boobs back outside, which means flattening himself against the wall like Sylvester the Cat.
Giant gays, giant gaywads, the song from the TV show about how we're the luckiest Seavers who never quit seaving, and then some cute Arkansas people talking about haircuts or something, and a girl with the distinctive coloration and spooky nervousness of one Miss Luna Lovegood. Charity Vance (16 I think, Little Rock) has the best name in the universe (thanks to not being a stripper), and sings "Summertime" with an impressive range and a mournful sort of soul to her voice. Shania's like, "I wish I could write a song like this instead of sounding like a printer error telling you I'm out of toner. Also, your voice is acceptable." Simon tells her that even that obnoxiously oversung song was a real treat from her. She's through. Her triumph song is "I'm Shakin,'" which I haven't heard in years.
Bored people clowning outside, and then horrible people clowning inside. A guy singing a snurfy song through his nose, a gay penis in bike shorts, a truly awful girl with an accordion, jerks with pom-poms, Vicki Lewis in a wedding dress, Heidi, a less-than-heroic version of "Hero," a dick singing "It's Not Unusual" and another dick just screaming any old crap, a violin weirdo, a pretty screaming girl in pink heels. Simon almost pukes at this point and that's when Shania finally realizes they promised her tuna fish, but gave her the same old chicken salad.
It's quantity, not quality! More crying people that never actually auditioned in our view, some girl comparing herself to J. Hud, her mother getting in Simon's face later in a hilarious way that's not even real and makes them both look adorable. He loves pissed-off moms even more than he does ugly British ladies.
Then Angela Martin (28, Chicago), who has auditioned for this show every year since back when it was still called The Kleen-Brite Tooth Polish Amateur Hour, goes through her whole sick sad world again, and it's just as intense as always, but they're not showing us that, that's for people who don't remember her every single year. If you don't, she had a traffic court date at one point, which is tragic, but she's still got dreams. Man, that girl does not allow things to get in the way of her dreams. Including, I guess, traffic laws.
"Just Fine," MJB. And she sings it just fine. Shania stares at her like she just realized we're in America and not Canada like usual. She loves her. Simon says Angela is the reason he does the show: Needs a break, and sings awesome. I like that. Kara makes her cry and Randy makes her yawn, and Simon kids around giving her a no and then giggles infectiously. Angela's very excited about going to California for the one hundredth time since the Gold Rush when she first auditioned for this show, and I'm very happy for her, but also worried because obviously God does not want her to be on this show, which means at some point her bus will be hit with an asteroid, and then what happens to Tyler Grady's face? Or that Mormon?
Eight total on Day One. Angela, a dude in an unfortunate Palestinian scarf, a guy who's like the male version of Kris Allen, boots girl with all the hair, some tall blonde blue-jeans needs-a-haircut cowboy hat hair guy... And some people who I guess are a secret. It's not quality, it's quantity!
Twelve thousand people, twelve thousand chances to feel better about yourself.
A giant man named Curley Newbern (25, Chicago) comes in wearing all white and singing Kate Bush (via Maxwell). This should be stupid... And it is. Randy can't handle it, the reedy lady-voiced nonsense, then Simon cracks up and Kara sort of quietly begs him to stop and Shania keeps her shit together really well, but none of them recognize the song, which was like a huge damn single back in the day, so I... That's the least confusing thing about this.
Shania stares into space for a long time, wearing a hideous godawful Laura Ashley bedskirt as a shirt and thinking: "Don't waste your time, they will be destroyed. So will the Judgery. American Idol is a losing game mankind has played for more than a century. Sadness is what you are. Do not deny it. The universe is a lonely place, a painful place. This is what we can share between us. Period."
Cute little lantern-jawed Alannah Halbert (19, Chicago) looks like the bookstore employee that she is. Well, no, that's unfair. Actually, she looks like a cult member from the Sixties. I guess some kind of cult that hates music and didn't get the memo that you don't sing "I Will Always Love You" on this show unless you're one of two people. They patronize and end up harmonizing with her, which eases the killing blow. Then she wanders out babbling and can't remember anything they said, which also eases caring at all about her.
It's not quality, it's quantity! More people going in the door and then leaving again, having not made it. Some are attractive, some are not, none of them matter. Then some Army dude who looks like a cartoon pedo and sounds like he has a head injury tells his old Sergeant to screw himself, because of how talented he is, goes in and sings Tiny Tim for them. Brian Krause (27, Pittsburgh) is a substitute teacher, which is kind of like a job, and...
You know how you can be really good at something, but that's not necessarily a good thing? Like, you could be the world's best runner-over of children. That's what being really good at singing Tiny Tim is like. So he does this whole long fucking routine that's not worth dealing with, that's kind of the opposite of Andrew Fenlon but harder to handle, and then sort of through the hairy forest of Norman Gentle, and then on into some maybe brilliant territory. Or mental illness.
Oh, for Christ's sake. The sob story? Quote: "I had a real bad asthma attack." That makes me want to fucking punch someone. That's like something Randy would say. Whatever, I'm in my tree talking to the Dixie Chicks and they're making me feel better.
Harold Davis (24, Chicago) has spirit, soul, and all the rest of it. And a spiffy hat. And a hunger for steak. And he's... Screaming at me. Okay, we'll talk about The Imaginarium Of Dr. Parnassus until you're done. That movie was awesome, it made me feel like I was drunk. But good drunk, like champagne drunk. The boy I was with found it very confusing, but that's only because he knows about valuable things like how to save money or drive a car, and not the things you would need to enjoy this movie, like the history of Tarot cards and minor character names from The Tempest. So I guess I win in the short term, but my credit rating is the price. If you see what I'm saying. I wish there was a job where those things come in handy. I guess there is, and I'm doing it right this second, which is more of a long-term win. Oh, Harold's done? That worked out well.
More schadenfodder: Chantelle Longlastname (23, Longplacename) who could really use a shrug instead of going sleeveless and should sing better. Kara says she didn't "impress [Kara] much," which is a two-fer of kissing Shania's dumb ass and introducing us to that horrible song that is not a song. It's a list of things that don't impress Shania Twain very much, set to bleeping and blooping and clicking.
It's not quality, it's quantity! More big girls, a cutie in a big red necktie who surprises Shania in some way, adorable chin-beard in earthtones who freaks out Kara's mind, a prancing girl in skirt-over-jeans, a vigorously vivacious homo in pink stripes, lots of hair on a girl, Simon possibly barfing more, angry screaming skinny girl with her arms all over the place that won't go home, some kind of frat stud shouting, helmet hair in an ugly corset with those scary eyes, Shania wearing denim which is the Canada equivalent of linen because of the temperature, a girl who looks like she's crying at all times, a girl who I think actually is crying at all times, some tragic close-ups of Chantelle followed by some more tragic farther-offs of Chantelle.
Then there's John Park (20, Northbrook IL), who is pretty darn hot. He has that swept-bangs look of Metro Station and a very swoopy beginning of his song that soon rights itself. Randy's going to be like, "an Asian guy singing soul!" And then he's going to say that sentence three more times. And each time, the guy will get more Asian and his voice will get sexier, and that's because Randy is magic. But instead of that shit, thankfully, Shania cougars out all the hell over him about his "bottom end" and his lips and his "nice tone down there," which is hot, but the whole time Randy is making a complete fuckface of himself until Kara has to tell him to leave her alone. It's pretty awful but it makes Shania seem much, much cooler. Randy magically makes you cooler by proximity.
Ryan tries to get all of hot John Park's ten hot college friends to group-hug, but instead they run out into the wild blue yonder because they are stoked to dangerous levels. If I sat to Randy Jackson probably I would turn into a surfboard. Or maybe Abigail Breslin. What would you turn into? I think you would turn into Lorenzo Lamas. Or that show Modern Family, maybe, if you sat there for longer. I wonder what Ryan Seacrest was, before he sat to Randy Jackson.
No, I bet he was already pretty awesome.
Ryan really wants to interact with adorable earthtone chinbeard, but it only makes AEC more nervous. I can't imagine being intimidated by Ryan Seacrest. That's like being intimidated by a pile of money, or a box of Thin Mints: "I can't look directly at them!" Or an open bar. What, you're going to have too awesome a time?
"There's glass between us! I can't deal with the infinite nature of Ryan Seacrest!"
So Asthma Girl has lived to the ripe old age of 21 and is named Paige Dechausse (Morris IL) and believe me when I say, I was -- predictably enough -- born with pretty severe asthma (to go with the 12-sided die they found clutched in one tiny fist), and I had a cousin who had to constantly do those breathing treatments, so I'm not being inhumane here. But because most people manage their asthma, or even run really fast and grow really long fingernails, it doesn't seem like that big of a deal overall. So even if your asthma is really, really bad, you shouldn't use it as your victim card because A) Nobody knows that and B) Don't have a fucking victim card.
Anyway, she sings Sam Cooke and it's very pretty. I don't like the look of her one bit, so it's hard to focus. She has the face of a very selfish person. Simon immediately calls her "indulgent" and "all about [Paige]," proving my last sentence correct as I was typing it. Shania says she's not "entirely convinced" but puts her through, Kara whatever, and then both ladies crawl all over Randy. Which, of course, causes him to dick the fuck around and soak up as much attention as possible and stretch it out as long as possible and be as obnoxious as possible forever and ever and ever and he finally puts her through. The music goes shit-hot nuts about this development.
Justin Ray (20, Marysville IN) is working a look I rocked for most of high school which I call the I'm Not A Lesbian I'm A Dude Why Do People Always Say That. Good voice. A really, really great voice is had by the repulsive Keith Semple (27, Hanover Park), who is like that creepy old man from Big Brother that had the whore daughter: Metal all up in his face, spazzy movements, guitar in hand, vest from Target. Wrist cuff. But a practiced gruff voice I really have no immunity to, and the Bryan Adams song "Heaven" which I have no immunity to, and I am just taken. Which sucks because I have a strong feeling I'll be hating him and his toothless self for a very long time starting now. Marcus Jones (18, Gary IN) has a wavery, nervous voice, and is singing the song about being your crying shoulder they always sing. He never really irons it out. They all get through. So that's great.
...Man, I'm already more into Keith than I was a second ago. Damn it. I'm not really myself right now. (How am I not myself?) Check in tomorrow and we'll get this train back on the rails with KRISTIN MUTHAFUCKIN CHENOWETH.
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