Do you know that this show is dead last in ratings? That means people who do this show aren't even watching it. It's just me. Me and Alexandra.
Previously on Popstars, people auditioned. Jackie said he'll be a "Popstah." There were callbacks, and most people were turned away. Scary girls wore scary makeup and cried. UnBritney Spears was sent away. Lots of people we've never seen before celebrated their callbacks. They keep showing us Kim's face so we don't forget her. The narrator tells us that, until now, it was just about their singing ability, but tonight we're gonna see some dancin'.
The producers keep trying to convince us that PseudoTravis is a "top choreographer." The audition will be in three parts. First, everyone has to freestyle. This involves lots of breakdancing. An important move in freestyling is to move your body frantically while you keep your face frozen in a way that reads, "Did I lose my keys?" Then PseudoTravis will have everyone do a choreographed number behind him, so I'm not sure how he'll know when someone's doing it correctly. And then everyone has to dance in groups. They clip in a voice-over from last season: "The stakes have never been higher." Out of the hundreds of "kids" auditioning today, there are only twenty-six sluts in Los Angeles. Right. Only twenty-six. Oh, "slots"? Yeah, there might be only twenty-six slots. But, seriously, way more than twenty-six sluts here. I'm just saying. We see shots of the workshop here, and I can see about fifteen of the people who make it. I can only identify about three of the faces. But Brandon is there, sans girlfriend. "For the chosen few, life will never be the same," the narrator reminds us. They show a shot of the house the Popstars will move into, and it's about as realistic as the opening shot of Mister Rogers' Neighborhood. They remind us again that there will be an album, a video, and a concert, but I'm pretty sure we'll never see these things before the show is cancelled. Some girl rushes the camera and grinds her hips, shouting, "Woo! Yeah! I got a callback! I got a callback!"
Opening credits. I don't like the new Popstars song that I'm going to have to listen to for another ten weeks.
Billy Blanks somehow got into the callbacks. He's standing in front of the camera now with a bandanna tied around his wrist. He's talking to me like when I get all tired during the double roundhouse kicks, telling me that he's just waiting on the choreographer now, and once he comes in, everyone's going to dance and whoever does it well will make the cut. "Now, give me some! That's it! You're a conqueror! Focus! Focus! Visualize! That's it!" Sorry. Do any of y'all get Billy Blanks flashbacks from your months of Tae-Bo? Because I'm still not well over it.
Someone took a group picture of one of the callbacks, with everyone shouting, "POPSTARS!" That Jackie and Vanessa sure are tied at the hip, aren't they? A different group cheers. Kids wiggle and dance. Ryan looks terrified and sweaty as he dances in a waiting room. Breakdancing boys flip and tumble all over the place. My mother would call this a madhouse. She's also make all of these kids sit still and wait their turn, warning them that they'll get hurt flipping around on this carpeting in the hotel. "You'll break your neck!" she'll curse them and then one by one, they'd break their necks. My mom has that kind of power.
A girl in blue pants tells the Latin kid with the grandma that they should all warm up together. He agrees, and we cut to the girl busting a groove in a circle of hopefuls. They're all, "Go 'head! Go 'head!"
Dorothy and Lian hold each other and fall to the ground together, realizing that a lesbian scene is the only way they'll get a third callback. The narrator reminds us again that they are "best friends." There's a split-screen as Dorothy licks Lian's ear on the left, and Lian tells us on the right that she's so happy that Dorothy is here, and she doesn't know what she's going to do once Dorothy gets cut, so she's not going to think about it.
"The energy is high, but so is the tension." I hope the narrator is high, because otherwise I'm not sure what he does with his day. Does he tell people he's the voice of Popstars? Or is it like when you work on porn, you use a different name? Not that I know anything about that, mind you.
The girl with the baby is praying in a chair. She's asking God to help her dance. "Because I suck," she says. That makes my job easier. Moving on.
Lian dances in the Go 'head Circle. So does the new Christina Petty girl. She grabs her ankle and kicks her knee.
Jackie finally weighs in: "You can, you know, make nice and be friends with everybody in the room, but you gotta know when it comes down to it, you want that spot. You want this. I want this spot over every other guy in the room."
The narrator reminds us who Jaymes and Crapcock are, and tells us that they'll be in the room watching as PseudoTravis leads the session. Don't forget, PseudoTravis choreographed J. Lo's "Play" video, and that somehow makes him "pop's hottest choreographer." Riiiiiiiiight. The narrator tells us that PsuedoTravis is "inspiring fear" today.
Kim tells us that "the dancing part" is either going to make her or break her today. See? Such insight!
They want us to pretend that this is all happening in one day and that the dance auditions weren't held in different cities all over this land. Therefore, I won't mention when we've obviously switched cities. I will mention that Latin Grandma Boy shouldn't have worn giant green pants. PseudoTravis wears his best Shaft shirt and explains the freestyle section. Jaymes is standing with both of her hands clasped over her left hip and her knees jutting out to the right. Who stands that way? PseudoTravis says he'll point at people one by one and then they'll come out and dance. Got it? I do. Here comes Wing's favorite part: the audition montage.
Missy Elliot's "Get Ur Freak On" starts playing. It's a good song, but this opening part is kind of slow. Anyway...
Matthew Parker, nineteen, Battle Creek, MI, has worn his best brown pants to this audition. Good thing, because his dancing's for shit. His tongue rolls around in his mouth as he dances and he's smirking like he's there on a dare. PseudoTravis points at someone else.
Adrian Austin, eighteen, New York, NY, is actually twenty-eight. He pushes and dances like he's underwater.
PseudoTravis breaks in here to announce that he's not feeling it, and that people have to take command and control when they get in the center square. He pleads for people to show energy and emotion, even if they have to lip-synch the words to do it. "You should be living right now," he concludes.
Enter Moi, everyone's least-favorite. He starts breakdancing his ass off, flipping around, wearing his dumb hat.
Michael Washington, twenty, West Covina, CA, also loves to breakdance. What year is this? Do these kids see lots of breakdancing in *NSYNC? Do they think that "B-Boy" stands for "Backstreet Boy"? 360 Degrees instead of 98?
Dorothy does a front handspring and then slowly sways back and forth.
Brandon does that jerky dance thing that he does as PseudoTravis explains that the freestyle section is important to him so that he can see how everyone dances. He wants to see how creative they can be, and how they generate their own energies. As PseudoTravis talks, we see Alexandra repeatedly bop her ass out of her shorts. I just saw lots of Alexandra, there. Two other kids flip by as PseudoTravis is talking; they're Corey Clark and Miredys Piguero, but since we've never seen them before, their 0.3 seconds of fame will go unrecognized here.
Donovan Green gets his own time in the spotlight here, because we're supposed to remember him. He'll be a finalist, I'm sure.
I've nicknamed Jackie's freestyle "The Fighter." He just punches in the air and looks like he's waiting to be attacked.
I'll never remember Laurie Gidosh's last name. She likes to dance sexy. She's the girl I was calling this year's Christina Petty.
They also want us to remember Monika Christian, the girl with the baby who doesn't care about her baby and just wants to sing.
Who the hell is Ejay Day? Doesn't matter. He's off the screen just as I type his name. He's got a bandanna around his wrist as well, and he grinds his hips while he holds his head -- a move I think he learned from G-String Divas. By the way, I totally asked to recap G-String Divas and got turned down. I tried to recap soft-core porn for y'all. That's how much I love you.
No fucking way. This kid's name is Charl E. Brown. That's it. I quit.
Lorenzo Medico from Scranton tries to sing with Missy on "Holler!" but people are still too stunned by ol' Charl, so he's only met with a smattering of approving laughter.
Lian dances as if she's already a background dancer. Nothing too flashy or big, just backing up the main star.
Katie Webber, nineteen, from Santa Cruz is a thirty-two-year-old stripper from Akron named Roberta Mishlun.
Sharra Dade, twenty-one from Brooklyn, should never, ever, ever wear orange. The girl looks like a tan in a can.
Hee. Travis Barr-Longo with his green pants. He's got the heart, and that's all he's got, unfortunately. How did he make it to day three? Seriously. I love him, but seriously.
Vanessa Salvucci sucks, y'all. Sucks. She'd better not make it. She's like a dancing Praying Mantis.
Reggie Rolle just wants to dance, and he's not afraid to show it. If you squint just right, it's almost like Travis is up there. Travis! I miss you! Come back!
Greg Treco, twenty -- the boy from Great America that had to "perform" last week -- is performing his heart out today. He holds his head and waves his arm as his legs do the funky chicken and he's trying his best to have every single limb do different performances at once. Cut to a shot of PseudoTravis laughing at him, but I'm sure they just edited it to look that way. Then the best part is when Missy shouts, "IS THAT YOUR CHICK?" Greg stares up all like, "What, woman? Why you bustin' in my science?"
Angel Ortiz, nineteen, from Long Island, is the blue-pants girl who wanted everyone to do the Go 'head Circle earlier. The narrator explains to us that Angel's got tons of dance experience. He's only telling us that because you can't really tell here that there's anything special about her, and she must make it to L.A. and they want us to care about her. In a split-screen, she eats pizza, telling us that it's nerve-wracking freestyling in front of the judges like this. She gets disqualified for eating food in front of the camera.
Angela Peel is the pretty girl who gave birth three weeks ago. She dances, and in a split-screen we see her all exhausted with the new kid. She explains to us that she basically sat on her ass for nine months waiting for some damn kid to be born, ready to ruin her life, "in chill mode and everything," and now she gets to get up and dance, so it's crazy because she's dancing, and not sitting down rocking her kid to sleep. Does anyone think that the powers that be would let a new teen mom be in a pop group? She's pretty and all, but those tattoos and that kid mean she's either got to go be the new Lil' Kim, or she'll have to wait a few years before she can be on a tour as a backup singer for someone else. Angela's dance style is to hold the waistband of her pants up as she rocks her ass back and forth until you're hypnotized like a snake. That's also just how she got pregnant, by the way.
The narrator tells us that Jahzeel Mumford is "counting on his dance talent" to get him another callback. And that's different from everyone else how, exactly? In a split-screen, Jahzeel tells us that two weeks ago he was watching the first-season Popstars reruns, and now he's at a callback in D.C. Wait. They showed reruns of Popstars? Where? When? Why? Jahzeel says to just "do your thing." His thing consists of jerky dance moves that look like invisible people are pulling on his head, trying to get him to enter another dimension.
Freestyle is over, and I'm applauding with all of them. The narrator keeps calling them "kids," because it's impolite to call them "overage hopefuls." It's time for the choreographed section.
Some guy we don't know tells us that he's nervous because he's not really a dancer, he's more of a singer. And since we never caught your name, you're probably not really a Popstar, you're more of an auditioner.
Another girl whose name we don't get tells us that dancing's easy-schmeasy. "Because I'm, like, have heavy dance training." But like, light grammar training.
Some girl tries to teach Tan in a Can how to dance. It doesn't work. Neither does the orange sports bra. Someone give these kids some fashion tips. Oh, by the way, in order to dance pop, you just have to dance "like karate." That's what they just taught me in that last clip. Just sharing the wealth of knowledge.
Fucking Moi. That's my immediate reaction to seeing him flip around like a monkey every three minutes. Back to day-two auditions, Moi's telling the judges that he's a "B-Boy." He says he doesn't know if they know what that is, and instantly the judges say that they know what a B-Boy is and then they turn to their assistants and get them to go look up "B-Boy" on the internet and come back with a full report. Moi does push-ups off a chair in a split-screen as he brags about his "talent." I think he then says he's got the four elements of being a B-Boy, which is tagging (breaking the law by spraypainting on city buildings and structures), spinning (records, I'm assuming), emceeing, and singing. And the dancing's where, exactly?
This part's my favorite. Jackie and Vanessa play footsie with each other as Greg leans in all conspiratorially and tells us, "Contrary to what everyone might have thought Jackie and Vanessa are not dating. They're brother and sister." Hee. Jackie and Vanessa fondle each other some more and then agree that they're ready to "bust a move."
Josh Henderson is the pretty boy whose girlfriend paid for him to fly to San Francisco from Dallas to audition. We're also about to see him break something in his body, so I'm stoked. He tells us that he's been waiting for this dance audition forever. I think he's wearing the same thing he was wearing in day two, so maybe the dance auditions are on the same day as day two, and not actually on a day three at all. The narrator tells us that Josh used to be a singing waiter, but Josh tells us that he really just wants to dance. He says he's ready to bring it.
The boys are showing off out in the hotel lobby. They jump around and do flips as others shout that they can do the same moves. Just as my mother would have predicted, Josh starts showing off, doing flips over and over, and then promptly twists his ankle on the landing. We hear that pitiful "Ahh!" over and over as Josh falls to the ground in slow-motion. It's so fucking funny, the twist to the ground all slow-motion with the sad music and the echoed effect on "Ahh!" God, that's so funny. Someone in the group says, "Oh, no!" and then everyone else goes on about their business, happy to have one less pretty boy to contend with. Someone calls a medic, and he tells Josh that he shouldn't dance on that ankle. He tells Josh to go get it checked out.
Josh's girlfriend Morgan -- the girl who told us in the first episode that if Josh wasn't meant to be a popstar, he'd give his all in whatever it is he's supposed to do -- cries on Josh's shoulder as Josh weeps openly about how unfair it is that he's not going to get to audition today: "This is wrong. This is wrong. This is not fair. This was my time to do it. This is wrong. This is wrong." That's what you get for showing off, Josh. "I was so pumped and I was ready to go. I screwed myself." The narrator soothes our deepest fears: "The San Francisco auditions will go on without Josh Henderson." As will the rest of the world. The saddest concierge in the land wheels Josh off and to the back of an open van, where they store pretty mannequin boys until they can order a new pretty ankle to twist on his plastic body. "It's breaking me. It's breaking my heart," Josh says, writing the song we'll have to hear from O-Town. The narrator pretty much tells us before we go to commercial that Josh will be back to audition soon, so there's no tension consuming us while we're gone from the show for ninety seconds.
This just in! The latest results from the Popstars 2 interactive poll! 79% of you think that Josh should "definitely" get a second chance. 21% of you think "Unfortunately, no." Thanks for all nine of you for voting! I love the voice-over here, telling you to play along with Popstars 2 for a chance to win "great prizes." That's what it says on the screen too. Great prizes like a Popstars 2 hat and matching sticker. Woo!
Phase two. We watch people warm up, and the narrator calls PseudoTravis a "star choreographer." Meaning he's choreographed for stars, I'm assuming. The lady with the baby (but not the pretty girl with the baby -- keep up with me here) tells us that she's nervous to work with PseudoTravis. She says he's amazing and has worked with important people. Great.
PseudoTravis explains the concept of an audition and what it takes to "dance." I'm assuming you all know what that is, so I'll spare you. Get to the montage!
PseudoTravis asks everyone to watch him first, and then try the choreography. PseudoTravis starts dancing, and some kid behind him does it at the same time, ignoring everything PseudoTravis has just asked him to do. PseudoTravis teaches rather difficult combinations to each set of dancers, so they don't learn the steps by watching other groups. Also, they're in different cities each time, so PseudoTravis's clothes keep changing. Everyone's having a difficult time keeping up, and they all look terrified. Where is the mirror they're using? Because it looks like they're dancing for Jaymes and Crapcock, but there has to be a mirror around there somewhere. Everyone's watching PseudoTravis and not looking into a mirror, though. Man, that must have been hard.
Two guys taking a break talk about how hard it is. One of them tells us to try it at home if we don't believe them.
One kid has just given up. He's standing there with his arms open, watching everyone else dance around him. The narrator tells us that this kid Christopher taught himself how to dance by watching MTV. I did that when I was five, but you don't see me getting gigs off the fact that I can do the zombie dance from "Thriller," now, do you? In a split-screen, we watch Christopher getting circles danced around him as he tells us that he felt all hope drain from his body. PseudoTravis walks over to him and touches him on the shoulder. He tells him that he can't stop and that he'd be much more impressed with someone who hung in there than he would be in someone who just stopped dancing entirely.
"The intensity of the dance audition throws everyone for a loop," the narrator tells us. We see clips of people getting frustrated. The girl who was in front of the boy who stopped dancing cries and tells us that she didn't do so well. She looked fine to me.
Greg tells us that this was the most frustrating dance audition he's ever been to, and that it makes him feel like a bad dancer. He insists that he's not a bad dancer.
The narrator: "Charged with finding stars for their supergroup, the judges grow concerned." Shot of Jaymes, Crapcock, and PseudoTravis standing up from their lazy asses as if they're going to talk to us secretly. Cut to a different day, different outfits, where PseudoTravis tells us that either the kids can sing but can't dance or can dance but can't sing. Jaymes tells us that this is hard, and that's why not everybody is cut out to do this.
Brandon Durand has "little to worry about," the narrator assures us. Brandon -- who is not gay, remember -- teaches dance. He also keeps one pant leg up around his knee. I hate that. Brandon does this thing when he dances where his head becomes detached and his lower jaw drops open like he's some kind of skeleton. PseudoTravis tells Brandon that he can tell he's a dancer.
Outside in some kind of waiting room, a jealous J. Lo type tells Brandon that it's a good thing PseudoTravis noticed him. Brandon babbles that you have to be "be, like, bomb singer, bomb, bomb dancer, like gorgeous, like popstar." Whatever that means.
We see the slow-motion twisting sadness of Josh Henderson and his ankle. Since you've all been terrified wondering what will happen to the pretty boy, I'm about to let you sleep again. His mom paid for him to fly to Miami, at the end of the audition process and he got to do the callback. His girlfriend flew him to San Francisco and his mom flew him to Miami. That's so sad. Homeboy best get a job soon after he gets cut. Josh tells us that he's been trying to tend to his ankle, and he's hoping it'll hold up through the audition. We see Josh's mother and two younger sisters. Everyone in the family is pretty. Vanessa Salvucci pops Josh's younger sister in the face, shouting, "The role's already been filled, bitch!" Josh's mother pretty much tells us that Josh is going to hurt his ankle again, but they hope he makes it, anyway.
PseudoTravis gets everyone to applaud for Josh before he starts his freestyle segment. The narrator informs us that the jerky, boring movements Josh makes are actually him "sailing" through the freestyle audition. See? The narrator comes in handy sometimes. Josh doesn't do so well during the choreography part because it involves hopping on your ankle over and over again. Josh tells us that he's upset he didn't get to give it his all because of his injury, and that it was hard to hop on his bad foot. Josh's baby sister says, "Po-stah!" getting more screen time than 2983 of the auditioners.
Online viewers weigh in! From what we've seen so far, 27% of you think the girls have the better moves, 32% of you think the boys have what it takes, and the other 41% of you think that so far it's 50-50! That's a totally cool poll, guys! Awesome!
We are finally in the final finality of the final dance audition on the final day of the final auditions in each of the final cities. Moi. Hate him. Some kid's got scary eyes. The aging hopefuls will be split into groups. Then each group picks a song from the choices they had at the singing audition, and must choreograph a number in twenty minutes. They have to do choreography, make vocal arrangements and harmonies, work within a group, and basically do their jobs.
The narrator lets us in on a secret. While the groups are rehearsing, Crapcock, Jaymes, and PseudoTravis are watching on secret hidden cameras (that are actually the cameras used for the show and aren't hidden or secret at all), so they can see how each person behaves in a group when the judges aren't watching. Crapcock talks to us like he's the kid from The State giving his sad monologues on Spy TV where everyone knows it's cheesy and sad but there's nothing any of us can do to stop it. The cameras show us Josh, Kim, Moi, and everyone else they want us to remember but don't have time to showcase.
Someone asks a boy whether he's a baritone. He answers, "Look, man, I just sing. You hit me with all these phrases, man."
Two girls are arguing when one notices the camera and stops fighting immediately. She insists that everything's fine while the other girl tries to keep the fight going.
They use the sound clip from last year where the narrator tells us that in each group a leader emerges. Greg tells his group that they aren't moving on until they get the vocals right.
Katie Webber the Stripper starts choreographing her group. The narrator tells us that she's a natural at this. It's just that usually she's taking off her clothes. She tells us that she's always been singing and dancing, and that she loves it and nobody can get her to stop. Or stop taking off her clothes.
Somehow, Alexandra made it to the dance auditions, and now she's about to become the Megabitch. Jaymes tells us that Alexandra caved all the time last year because she couldn't take the heat. Alexandra has countered this by becoming a mega-beast diva. She pulls her top over her titties and tells her group that she has to shine through here because she didn't do so well in her dance audition so now she's got to be better. Jaymes says that Alexandra thinks she has a step up on everyone else because she did this last year, as insolent Crapcock tries to talk over Jaymes to PseudoTravis. He will be punished for that later. "That could really be problematic," Jaymes finishes. "You really could feel that kind of energy from her," PseudoTravis agrees, kissing ass. Crapcock pouts for talking out of turn. Alexandra dances poorly in a split-screen as she tells us that her group sucked and the group's leader sucked and they made her look like she sucks. Alexandra has fallen into a bad crowd in Miami, y'all. Remember last year when she was kind of sweet? I hate her now. And she can't get a subject and a verb to agree in one single sentence. As Alexandra pulls her shorts out of the folds of her vagina, Jaymes taunts the image of Alexandra on her screen, singing the *NSYNC song with the words "It's all about me!"
Tom Tusler, twenty-one from Gibbstown, NJ, is a tall guy who is like Chris Penn in Footloose. He can't freestyle for shit, but because of all his linedancing experience, he can pick up choreography easily. He tells us that he can visualize it and do it easily. He's crazy tall.
The judges come back and tell everyone it's time to go. Twenty minutes have passed, the narrator tells us. PseudoTravis reminds everyone that this is their last moment to audition, and they need to take it all seriously. Here we go. I know they said the groups could pick different songs, but they're all just doing "It's Gonna Be Me" for some reason.
The first group decided to go for that barbershop quartet style of dancing. Yeah, it's just like you imagine.
The second group has decided that each person can do their own thing. People are walking around, dancing facing walls, looking like play time in a daycare center.
Another group just stands in one place, bouncing. Extreme choreography!
Another group steals their moves from Dance Dance Revolution, but it's not working.
Another group sucks so hard that PseudoTravis grabs the back of Jaymes's chair to keep himself from smacking them. Nice green daisy pants, jag.
The stripper's group sucks because everyone keeps their clothes on and sings horrifically.
Josh Henderson's group is standing on each other. One girl's wearing jeans. Another one's stuck under Josh's bad ankle.
One group trips over each other.
Another ends with a horrible big finish, complete with late dance moves.
Applause. "five," someone says, and suddenly a group is singing "Come On Over." Actually, one girl is singing, as the narrator tells us that one person from each group generally emerges as a leader. This girl tells us that she's used to singing solo (she opened for Busta Rhymes, the narrator tells us), but that it's cool to be in a group because you get different personalities that way. But in this case, she didn't let any other personality get in the way of her solo singing. Her name's Tenia Taylor. I think we're done with her.
Everyone applauds anyway when it's over, and we cut to a very confusing montage where people just stand and sing and don't dance at all. No dancing. None.
Shannon Yoesle, eighteen, is singing a solo during "I Believe I Can Fly." She's a Christian, and tells us that she doesn't think you should have to show your boobs or too much skin to be a popstar. So much for Shannon's chances. Oh, and her giant mouthful of metal. That might stop her from advancing to Los Angeles. She tells us that she's always thinking of God when she sings.
Travis Latin Grandma's group is singing "Say My Name," but they've changed the song to be this slow thing you clap to. They all just clap and sing, and someone keeps forgetting to sing his or her part and there are just patches of silence and clapping. Travis tells us he hopes the judges are going off personality and heart and not talent and ability. You better hope they're also going off bad fashion skills and not good ones. Travis informs us that, in a pop group, personality is "almost" more important than talent.
Don't we all care what happens to Alexandra? Here's her group. Some boy's hamming up his "Bye, Bye, Bye" solo. It gets to Alexandra. She mumbles a few words, stops, turns, and gives an unapologetic "I don't know this part. Sorry, guys." People want to kill Alexandra. Kill. They hate her like I've been hating her for months. They finally understand my rage. Some guy bitches that she fucked everything up and totally didn't care. When it all ends, the guys all walk over to Alexandra to touch her exposed flesh and titties one last time as the girl in the group walks off to buy a gun. In a split-screen, the girl with too much eye-shadow and oily skin that they keep showing us every week hugs Alexandra as Alexandra tells us that she gave it her all. She says she hopes the judges can see that. The split-screen Alexandra rubs eyeliner out of her eyeball, pulling the flesh on the right side of her face all the way down to her lip. I actually have to turn my head and go, "Whoa." Alexandra tells us that it's over. I look back. It's over.
Angel falls to the ground, and the narrator tells us it's over. It's over! In a week, the judges will call people and tell them whether they made it or not. That's week. A guy tells us that nobody is going to be allowed to use his phone. Not even for the internet. He says if Jesus calls, he might pick up. PseudoTravis tells everyone that if they get called and they make it to L.A., their lives will change forever. Not to get too dramatic about it. All the kids dance and celebrate.
week, the kid who wears rags around his wrist answers the phone holding a cat. The judges call everyone. I think Vanessa's gonna get turned down! So will Alexandra! Whee! week rules! I thought they were supposed to drag out the process over eight weeks! Dammit. This is even faster than last season. I didn't get to know anybody. At this point last season, I at least had an idea who would get in and could cheer for people. I don't even like anyone so far. Oh, who cares. Nobody's watching this thing. Are you even reading? Did you get this far? Will you vote and tell me? Will you sign up for the mailing list? This is like writing a recap at the bottom of the Grand Canyon.