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Friday, April 16, 2010

p.s.

Smell ya later, Fauxkey & Miss Teen CT

Monday, April 12, 2010

Puh-leeze, Mister Postman

Dear Jellyteeth,

Welcome back, buddy.

I appreciate your diligent desire to address every episode, no matter how tardy your post (get it, post, like, the mail. And a blog post. BOTH!).

In fact, I was a little bit delighted when I at first misread the intention of your last letter's opener: "Holy shit this is the latest entry of all-time." When I read that my first thought was "Wow, how clever my pen-pal Jellyteeth is! When he hit 'publish' it sure WAS the latest blog entry of ALL-TIME. Well, for like a nanosecond or less, but that guy really does tell the truth."

I'm just full of double-meanings tonight, Jells. I think it's because of this terrible news I've got on my mind: http://bit.ly/94TeVL

Also, Jellyteeth, I admit to owning a less diligent constitution. I can't and won't address Usher week. I watched it while very tipsy on wine with your sister, Puddinteeth, and I have nothing to say. Not much recollection. Bye bye to Didi, your beloved Julie Cooperish chanteuse.

On to Lennon/McCartney week before the return of GLAMBERT as tomorrow's mentor. Boy oh boy, finally something to write home about!

I realize that there are two things Beatles week always teaches me:
1) When a contestant pulls off a decent cover, it only ever reminds me of a version I like much, much better; and
2) There are some Beatles songs that should just NEVER be attempted if one wants to be taken seriously. Some of these songs remind me of wearing a costume instead of clothes.

(Man, why isn't Michael Kors an AI judge: "You look fabulous, honey, but you SOUND like a jelly doughnut in a jigsaw!")

Examples to follow.

Now, dear pal, on to provide you with my thoughts on the performances...

Aaron - all I have to say is: more like "The Long And Whining Road"

Simon is such an impatient tomato tonight. And it's only the first song. Delicious. I could eat him like a hand fruit.

Miss Teen CT's wooden "Single Ladies" dancing only lends further support to my suggestion that she was a member of a Sparkle Motion-type dance troupe as a child. Her song was pretty but boring and forgettable. I *literally* just watched her sing this for the second time and I have already forgotten which song she tackled. Oh good god, thanks, KA-RA, for singing the chorus into Simon's face and reminding me that it was "Let It Be." She was obvs such a sad case in high school, dispensing blowjobs and cupcakes to the drama club in equal measure, no doubt!

Fauxkey. This is a very clear example of Beatles-week lesson #2. "Can't Buy Me Love." Golly, just do the African Anteater Rital and really make a night of it! Please? Fine, Fauxkey, I'll just DO IT MYSELF:



I can't believe he didn't get sent home for that.

Big Mike - I don't know. I didn't hate his "Eleanor Rigby." I agree with Simon that it could have been in a musical. It was theatrical enough that I forgot for a minute that he is Nell Carter. Is that good or sad?

Now time for Barberpox. She's looking especially co-op tonight. Oh yeah - I forgot. It's stunt instrument week. Didgeridoo. She must be longing for Burning Man. You know, she is so talented, bu I just can't care about what she sings. Her "Come Together" suffers (see lesson #1), as I recently purchased an Ike & Tina album by the same name, and Tina SLAYS the song. Here is a video of Tina & her girls to show you what I mean:



(Also, there is no such thing as sexier backup dancers. They don't exist. I don't care what your mom told you.)

T'Urban, that little cheeky, toothy monkey. "All My Loving" is very nearly a lesson #2. It all feels very talent show to me (next time, do it with a hacky-sack). Why oh why won't he Megan Joy-it tonight? The closest he came was matting his hair down a little bit for a weak-sauce Beatles mop-top facsimile. Not cutting it T'Urban! Next.

Oooh! Casey James is up. My fave. What I have to say about Casey James' performance of some Lennon song I don't know can be summed up by this visual equation:

(Didn't you know that this is even more perfect on account of that doll's name is Li'l Stinker? It is! And it is!)

You know what? I think that Casey James might be a "cheesedick."

Oh Siobhan, you lovely little artsy weirdo minx, you! "Across The Universe." I have some dark and light associations with this song, Jells. Dark = that horrible Beatles-flavored movie that Puddinteeth forced me to watch one night. Eesh. Light = Rufus Wainright's gorgeous version of this song.



(Bonus! Little Dakota Fanning in the video. Damnit! I can't believe I still haven't seen The Runaways. That is some bullshit I'm calling on myself right here.)

I think Siobhan's voice sounded sort of strange. But her outfit is insane enough to amuse.
("You sounded great, honey, but you LOOK like a crinoline cake pedestal!")

Oooooh da-lolly! Hangdog closes the night! (OK BIG UPS to Bowersox for making a Hangdog / Fauxkey = Gokey babies comment. I sort of love her now. I even spelled her name properly.)

Closing out the night with "Hey Jude" is so boring and obvious and anthemic. But you know what isn't obvious: a bagpipe player. He totally telegraphed the stunt too - he got too excited and opened his eyes and mouth really wide. I could tell because I do the same damn thing every single time I make a pun. (I got no ... joker face! Yeah, I just did it there. Alone at home, no less.)

You totally pegged it - he never should have gained any confidence. Now he is pure cornball. But I love it. I love him. I am rooting for Cornball Juggalo Hangdog Dewyze to take it all. He won't, but he is just BLOSSOMING in front of us.

So we know that no one got kicked off amidst all of this Beatlemania. Glambert is the mentor this week. And two go home. Finally some drama. Let's get rid of some of these jokerz!

I don't know why you say hello, I say goodbye,
Cold Cuts

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

Miley Serious

Dear Cold Cuts.

Holy shit this is the latest entry of all-time. I have what feels like years of performances to cover. That’s mostly because the shows are so. Ridiculously. LONG. I can barely digest one before the next is upon us. Also, I’ve been outta town. Tooling around the Pacific Northwest is way better than anything related to Season 9.

I’m a completist, so I’m gonna take it back (way back). Let’s make the Miley Cyrus thing quick.

Juggalo DEWYZE – yes corny, yes connick, yes blargh in general. But – everything must be taken in context; this was the most different he’s been from his low-budget, dorm-living hackey-sacking Creed-loving broham than ever, and for that he deserves someone to mimic a pat on the back while he’s not looking. Because I don’t EVER want him to get that confidence together.

Paige – I hope she brought enough coloring books for the flight home.

Tim Urban – he shall know be referred to as T’Urban. It’s just too convenient. Did you know that he’s a swaggering bluesy crooner? And did you also know that girls think he’s just adorable? Guys like this are as rare as hydrogen molecules and I genuinely don’t know how anyone would pick him out of a lineup, much less out of *this* lineup. He’s making it through by the skin of his pointy canine teeth, boosted by the country’s current obsession with inoffensive pretty-boy vampires. Fuck ‘im.

Aaron Ghey – I do not recall a second of what he did with his singing voice, only the moment where he claimed to have a crush on sMiley. If you squinted carefully at his oily face, you could see a reflection of the producer conducting the interview, and the knife they were threatening to cut him with if he failed to say something implying he was a heterosexual. This technique was refined a couple of seasons ago, when Archuleta forced them to take drastic measures.

Beavrshlocks – this felt like another friggin’ “duh” performance. I don’t know when I stopped rooting for you, but I did, and I can acknowledge that you’re the best without wanting you to do well. Just everything about you seems so friggin’ obvious. Even a tiny dash of ‘surprise’ could change my mind.

Big Mike – deleted from memory. in its place, the opening credits to Give Me A Break are running, with T’Urban reprising Joey Lawrence’s role.

Fauxkey – here’s the conversation K-Bo and I had when he started his bit.
K: ohmigod, this is retarded. It’s going to be terrible. And I HATE this song. It reminds me of nothing but the California Raisins.
C: holy shit, he IS a California Raisin! Look!


Casey – this is kidding, right? Like you heard paige in rehearsals and approached the band with the last-minute change, with a sales pitch along the lines of “why not, there’s no WAY it’ll be bad enough to get me voted down. Besides, this number used to get me HELLA ‘tang back home, and you guys could really be in for some amazing sloppy seconds is all I’m saying.” It’s the singular explanation for such ridiculous decision-making.

Didi – I get the point, and I also get why it was weird and like a burlesque show or whatever Simon probably compared it to. I also think that in the context of this horror-show, it was fine. At least she looked like she was having fun, even if it was snarly ‘sexy’ fun.

Siobhan – I don’t recall when/where/what/how she performed, and it was only your letter that explained she closed the show, so it must’ve been okaaaayyyyy or something. Congrats, Siobhan – you did, like, something tonight!

So yeah, one of the worst shows ever. The real takeaway from all this was, Hannah Montana is a surprisingly unlikeable person to be the star that she is. What’s up with her meth-whore voice? Not cool. Anyway, My ennui is hopefully peaking. I can’t believe there’s still two more shows to recap. Sorry for this lame-ass letter, Cold Cuts, but I’m already weary from the task ahead.

TTYL (but not much L),
-Jellyteeth