And Now, A Word From Our Fun, Sexy Sponsors

We here at What A Fun, Sexy Time For You would like to take a moment to thank the sponsors of Tuesday night's Idol Offering: "The First Group of Twelve Butchers Songs That Were Recorded ... Sometime".

The scintillating cavalcade of stank was made possible by grants from the following:

• Hoover
• Eureka
• Oreck
• Jenna Jameson
• Sinusitis
  
• Mosquitoes
• Bill O'Reilly
  
• Monica Lewinsky
• Stale Coffee
• Black Holes
• ATM fees
• Rush Limbaugh
• Bullies
• PMS
• Ringworm (Psoriasis! Tetter!)
  
• SPAM
• Migraine Headaches

That show could only have been brought to us by a group of sponsors whose collective SUCK runs a distant second to the great and powerful SUCK brought to us by this group of ne'er-sing-wells and their oh-so-creative interpretations of Songs That Have Ever Been On The Billboard Charts (way to narrow it down, there, Idol producers).

With only a couple of exceptions -- and, yes, I mean you, Danny Gokey and your didn't-blow-me-away-but-it-was-still-OK-for-me-for-you rendition of Hero, and you, Alexis Grace, even though your voice is thin and your hair and alabaster skin and overall perk will likely be working my last nerve within two weeks -- every single performance was just oozing, nay DRIPPING, with mediocrity.

So, I ask you. No, I implore you, Idol Contestants. For the love of all that is right and holy: GET. IT. TOGETHER.

The View: Sigourney's Weaver

I am SO ANGRY I deleted The View from the DVR today (and not even on TiVo, so I can never get it back). Sigourney Weaver pulled a Basic Instinct during her segment today, and the ViewTube is not up yet.

Developing...

Celebrity Protuberance Watch - Elisabeth Hasselbeck

Just calling it right now. I think Elisabeth Hasselbeck is with child. She's looking a little fuller these days. Maybe it's an Election Night Baby!

Missouri Loves Fun, Sexy Company

So, yo.

After last night's death march through the scorching streets of Phoenix, I had dug deep, preparing myself for the horrors that awaited me in the second offering of auditions for this, the 8th season of the joy that is American Idol. I had embraced all of the breeding that my Southern-fried mama has instilled in me by setting my expectations VERY low (it almost always assures you of being pleasantly surprised).

You know what? I was.

Kansas City, while certainly serving up its share of hot messes, had quite a number of folks who can say, with confidence, that "it" was brough'en!

I need to get something off my chest, however, before I delve any deeper into tonight's standouts:

If I NEVER hear Somewhere Over The Rainbow again, it will be too soon. There. I've said it. YES. I'll grant you that it's a great song. But it's been far-too-often butchered and used as a weapon against the eardrums of innocent souls like myself. Seriously ... what did I ever do to that song that would make it hate me so very, very much? It should be banned from AI, along with Something to Talk About and Black Velvet, as well as the collective songbooks of Mari-ugh Carey, Whitney 'Crack Is Whack' Houston, and Stevie Wonder (not that I disparage Mr. Wonder in the least).

*steps down off of soapbox*

Where was I? Oh, right. Kansas City.

• Ashley Anderson. While she might not be the BEST singer ever to appear on this show, she's surely one of the craftiest. She opted to sing a Leona Lewis song, which, coincidentally, was penned by one Simon Cowell. Even though she muffed the words a little, she was in like Flynn. A note, however: I don't care if you ARE 6'4", it's not necessary to wear earrings so large that a Shih Tzu could jump through them.
• Casey Carlson. She is the poster child for all-American cuteness. She went to the Carrie Underwood School for Middle-American Wholesomeness (and doubtless graduated summa cum laude). She has a decent voice, though she could give John Moschitta a run for his fast-talking money.

As a side note, I need to mention that this show may have the greatest editors ever to walk the planet. Tonight's Montage of Tears was one of the funniest things I've seen in a while.

• Von Smith. I'm going to overlook the fact that he hurt my feelings by singing The Song That Shall Not Be Named (see above) because he's got real potential. He's either going to go VERY far, or he'll crash and burn right away. Hard to tell. But he's got something.
• Michael Castro. Ahhh ... nepotism. Gotta love it. The 20-year-old brother of last year's 4th runner up, Jason "I Wish I Was Jack Johnson" Castro, just started singing about 3 weeks prior to the audition. And you know what? He wasn't bad. He sang a Gavin DeGraw song, which probably wasn't such a good idea, but at least he didn't sing I Don't Want To Be, which should be retired, along with the rest of the of songs listed above.
• Matt Breitzke. He's sort of a loveable teddy bear type. He's a welder; another real man's man (like last night's oil derrick guy). For me, he was kind of ahead of the game, because he chose to sing Ain't No Sunshine, which is one of my mostest favoritest songs of all-time. He was NOT BAD. Not GREAT, but not bad.
  
• Jessica Furney. She's another one of those sweet n' wholesome farm-raised, milk-fed types. Cute. As. A. Button. And she sang the tar out of some Janis Joplin, so she scored major points right there.
• Danny Gokey. Oh, Danny, Danny, Danny. Even if you didn't look like the second coming of Robert Downey, Jr., you'd have me completely sold. THIS guy is the real deal. He's got everything. If there's one place THIS Danny is NOT going, it's to the lumberyard. He's got Top 10 written all over him, easy. LOVE. HIM.
  
• Anoop Desai. He's the Freshmaker. Refreshingly geeky, curiously talented. He's like a musical Altoid.
  
• Asa Barnes. Junior High School band leader. Even though he sang a Michael Jackson song (something that generally falls under the heading of "Not The Best Idea"), I liked this guy. Totally unpretentious, good role-model type and totally self-effacing. And he can actually sing (which is a bonus in a show that is, ostensibly, about singing talent).
• Lil Rounds. Sounds like something that doctors do on their off-hours, or some newfangled dog treat, but no, it's actually a name. She's another one who is gonna get a big dose of sympathy vote, because she has a Sad Story. She's got a really good, strong, truly soulful voice and I think she'll be right in the thick of things til close to the end.
  

In all, 27 folks got the nod to go on to Hollywood, most of them actually deserved it, I think. Certainly more so than Bikini Girl (who, in the immortal words of Jon Stewart, needs a cunch to the pooter).

Fingers crossed that the next two weeks will be as merciful as tonight's romp through KCMO!

Blogged with the Flock Browser

It's Fun, It's Sexy ... It's Phoenix!

So, it's like, minus eleventy degrees here on the East Coast and watching last night's Season 8 Premiere of American Idol and its crop of auditioners from hot, steamy Phoenix has left me more than a little embittered.

But this isn't about me, now, is it?

This is about the giant, sucking musical void that apparently exists in the state of south-central Arizona. We'll call it the Grand Abyss. Let's examine what went down, shall we?

First and foremost, I've gotta say that I have something of a girl-crush on new, and 4th, judge Kara (pronounced CARE-a, not CAR-a) DioGuardi, simply because (A) she clearly has some chops and (B) she had the brass tacks to call one of the female contestants a word that generally doesn't go over well with women (see #8 below). She's gonna bring a whole new brand of crazy to the judges table. Fine family fun.

Other than that, I had a few observations:

(1) The Coca-Cola Company would like to remind you to recycle.
(2) Emily Hughes was one of two bright spots among the smallish group of auditioners who have made it through to the Hollywood round, but will likely go no further. She sang the CRAP out of Barracuda (which is no small feat). Let's hope her life plan of covering herself with as many tattoos and piercings as possible, in order to keep herself away from a desk job, works out for her.
(3) Having a seismically-low deep bass voice does NOT make you Barry White. Too bad for Elijah Scarlett.
(4) Sometimes, being likeable is enough. Just ask Michael Sarver, manly-man oil rig worker and overall nice guy.
(5) Lea Marie Golde, the nasally DioGuardi stalker, reminded me a heckuva lot of Lara Flynn Boyle's "psycho hosebeast" character from Wayne's World. She had the cute, Ivory Girl face, but her eyes said "helter skelter!"
(6) As far as Simon Cowell is concerned, a healthy knowledge of world geography has direct bearing on your ability to make it as a pop star. Lucky for Alex Wagner-Trugman (aka Mold Boy), he was a brainiac (c'mon ... he pulled Abkhazia!) and, since he had gotten himself, quite literally (figuratively, too, I'm guessing), out of the closet, earned himself a ticket to "The Show".
(7) There were TWO bright spots to be found in the endless parade of suck. The first was tattoo girl. The second was Scott McIntyre, or the person who's gonna end up being known as "the blind guy". His voice was great, and if he gets a chance to play his piano during the competition, it's gonna be game, set and match.
(8) I'm not going to mention her by name, because that would validate her existence, but Bikini Girl needs to be punched in the hoo-hah. Seriously.

So, that's it for me for Phoenix. Tonight, we're on to Kansas City: home of ribs, great chili and David Cook. With luck, SOMEONE will show some promise. Or at least share a good recipe for BBQ.

American Idol = Fun + Sexy x Crazy Ass Crazy

Hi, Friends!

As some of you may know, I've written about the yearly televised Godzilla American Idol for a few years now over at PhillyBurbs.com. As it seems that neither the current cloud of these economic times nor Rod Blagojevich's giant taint have yet to touch the niche blogging industry, I will be blogging over there once again. After a few years of Sanjayas and crazy Paulas and Randy's sparkle cowboy shirts, I'm feeling TIRED. So, my question for you is -- What do you want out of your Idol blog reading experience?

I'm looking for new ideas and challenges. Basically, I want you to do the hard part of my job for me. What kinds of posts do you want to see? What do you definitely not want to see? If you had been a reader of my posts previously, what worked and what didn't? I write to serve you.

Love.

The Leastest Fun, Leastest Sexiest Dance Show Ever

You remember Michael Flatley? The self-proclaimed "Lord of the Dance" should, perhaps, consider a new title after last night's premiere of Superstars of Dance, the brainchild of American Idol and So You Think You Can Dance? producer Nygel Lythgoe. Somehing like "Jester of Dance". As an aside, Mr. Lythgoe didn't NEED another dance show, as SYTYCD is already the bomb diggity, yo. It is fun, it is sexy -- nay SMOLDERING -- and it doesn't have Michael Flatley, which I consider a rather good thing.

The new show, which will air starting tonight, at its "regular" time (I put "regular" in quotes, because if it lasts another week, I'll eat my Ugg boots. Which, from a fashion perspective might be a good thing, as it's been pointed out that they are heinously ugly in spite of their delicious comfortableness. But I digress ...) on NBC at 8EST/7CEN, is billed as "an intoxicating mix of cultures", but it's pretty much just a celebration of cheese. And not even good cheese.

The one thing that this 2-hour cavalcade of dreck DID have was Robert Muraine. For those of you who're fans of So You Think You Can Dance?, you'll remember him as "Mr. Fantastic", or the guy who was able to do all of those insanely freakish, wonderfully awesome, defy-the-laws-of-physics-and-anatomy things to his body. Sadly, this show even managed to steal some of HIS thunder, which is really hard, as you'll see in the video -- a clip from his audition for SYTYCD last year.

Save yourself the agony. SKIP the show. Watch the video. You'll be up in the game by 113 minutes.

You can thank me later.

The View - "This is the dumbest show I've ever been on."

Thank you, Barbara, for echoing my sentiments.

The show that had been a riveting ticking time bomb during the presidential election has become a bastion of the inane.

Here's what went down (and this is all before the really, really hard to watch Greta Van Susteren came on the show):

1. The ladies completely butchered Illinois politics. Governor Rod R. Blagojevich is going to be in the news for quite a while. It might behoove you to learn how to pronounce his name, Barbara Walters. It's Blah-GOY-yeh-vitch. It's only been on every news channel 100,000,000 times before your show aired at 10 AM today. Also, Whoopi, yes, four of our governors have found themselves in hot water, but not four CONSECUTIVE governors. I'm sure Jim Thompson and Jim Edgar would be surprised to find out that they too were conviction on corruption charges. Also, Elisabeth, George Ryan is/was a Republican. Don't talk about his conviction with such glee.

2. Whoopi talked like a valley girl throughout an entire segment about a 70-year-old woman who gave birth in India.

3. Again with the strange births. This show has become Maury Povich so slowly I barely noticed.

4. The ladies hooted and hollered over a blocked out picture of some football player naked in the locker room.

5. And then Cameron Matheson showed up to prove he doesn't wear a thong.

6. This all led up to Whoopi's search for the perfect gingerbread man.

And I'm only half way through with the show. I need to watch some Sesame Street to get my brain working again.

Paula - No More Idol?

Per the television's greatest source for cat fights and talk of flatulence, The View, it seems like season 8 might be it for Paula Abdul.

It's BAAACK!

Ahhh ... you can smell it in the air, can't you? The scent of low-to-moderate grade cheese? That's because American Idol returns to your homes and hearts in precisely one month's time! And you thought you had just forgotten to take out the garbage last night.

Come January 13, we'll be treated to re-re-re-re-re-hashings of Simon Cowell's venomous barbs, the blatherings of one Randawg Jackson and, of course, the oft-senseless natterings of Miss Paula Abdul. I do so look forward to hearing her wax philosophical about how the contestants have really made their songs their own, allowed their spirits to soar on the wings of berainbowed fairies, and how they are all not just unique, but also different.

In that spirit, I'd like to add my two cents about the theme nights I'd like to see during this season:

1. 80s Week

2. Satanic Metal Week

3. Irish Drinking Songs Week

4. The Complete Works of Dr. Seuss Put to Music Week

5. Songs That Don't Suck Week

6. College Fight Songs Including the Word "Vim" Week

7. Gregorian Chant Week

8. Motown Week

9. Songs That Suggest Extreme Confidence In Mediocre Talent, and Not Merely Confidence But Almost Even A Suggestion That The Singer Feels That They Deserve Enormous Accolades As a God-Given Right Without Particular Effort Or Struggle And Certainly Without Actually Creating Something Themselves Week

10. Disco Week!

I Watch SNL So You Don't Have To

This was one of the more entertaining episodes of SNL, even if it was devoid of Will Forte (Where was he? WHAT?)

Here are the best moments.

First Obama plays it cool...



Then the hysterical Pony Express...



And finally, the somewhat NSFW Pet Shop Boys send up: Jizz in My Pants...



Enjoy.

Fun, Sexy SNL Skit, Part the First

Happy Monday, Timers!

Next time the Saturday Night Live Powers That Be consider inviting Tim McGraw to host, they should immediately pass up his name in their Rolodex in favor of T-Pain and Ludacris.  Here is one of the two good sketches from the Thanksgiving episode.

I Watch "The View" So You Don't Have To

The View is one of the most entertaining shows on television right now. Today, Barbara opened up about her seven year relationship with living corpse Alan Greenspan. And The Powers That Be tried to soften Elisabeth's Blonde Republican Harpy image by forcing her to talk about shopping for discount home goods with her unwilling husband. But the biggest WTF moment came at the beginning of the show where Whoopi tried to channel Rosie Perez. You can see it here.