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),