Before this seminal results show, my Junior Blogger declared: "I don't care who gets voted off. Just give me Gwen and a medley." Although the Producers provided us with a great performance by Gwen and Akon, we were once again robbed of the medley. I don't know about you, but I'm really pissed off.
We tune in week after week hoping to see the best America has to offer. Instead, this season the judges picked an awful crew of hopefuls and, as a consequence, the forces of darkness have been successful in undermining the legitimacy of this competition. I'm not just referring to that creep Dave at Votefortheworst.com. Frankly, he's a self-important fool who actually thinks he makes a difference. But larger forces have joined him and it is now having an impact.
I've always respected Howard Stern for his total lack of decorum and vulgarity. I totally supported his campaign against censorship as well as many of his tasteful segments including his This Should Be Wrong Game Show where the loser had to kiss their sister or some other perversion. But now he's gone too far. He claims to be a fan of this show, yet pimps for the Mohawked wonder along with Help Desk workers and quasi-retarded 13-year old girls who cry at the drop of a hat.
This can not stand! As of tonight, I have canceled my Sirius Radio Subscription and I hope others will join me. It isn't Idol that is a fraud; it's girly Stern who even makes Seacrest look rough as noted by his drag routine on Letterman. After he divorced his first wife, Howard went on and on and cried like a Hollywood finoc and prattled on like a pussy about his therapy sessions. He promised never to get married again. But, in the end, he lied to all those who hold out hope for a better tomorrow when he announced his engagement to Beth. He's no man. Why doesn't he brandish a strap-on and join in one of the lesbian mud wrestling matches he so repetitively pimps. He's no longer a masterful comedic force. He's just tired, old and weak. For all the awkward losers out there who tuned into Howard hoping to be the next Bettlejuice, it's now time to turn off that radio.
Frankly, I'd rather listen to Ryan Seacrest, particularly after he brandished that faux Mohawk tonight, which brought well needed laughter to American households. I've already Tivoed that segment twice and cackled like a hyena along with my Junior Blogger. After his beat-boxing and dancing skit from last week, Ryan seems to be coming into his own as a comedic force. Tonight was definitely one of Ryan's finest moments. I'm sure that had something to do with honoring Gwen and other overlooked Italian artists.
In this country, we celebrate Saint Patrick's Day in an effort to curry favor with the drunken and murderous Kennedy's. But what about Saint Joseph's Day? It's a big feast in Italy, but not here in America. Where is my Zeppole? It should figure that the Kennedy's and their ilk worship a snake charmer, rather than the patron saint of workers. I guess that shows how sincere they are when they claim to champion the working class with their Nanny State initiatives like the minimum wage. This injustice makes me so angry that I'll need an Ambien to get to sleep tonight. Unfortunately, all the drugs stores are out of stock since Patrick is in town for a few days of debauchery in the name of public service. I don't know how I'll ever get to sleep. Perhaps, I'll get some peace and quiet with Dick Cheney at his underground bunker. Not only does he brandish his rifle like a marksman, I hear he makes a mean hot coco before he goes to bed and snuggles with his pet grizzly bear.
At least Idol honors my people and others who have suffered at the hands of oppression. It is no coincident that Gwen sang The Sweet Escape with Akon, an African-American who has also experienced the long-reach of tyranny. They also sounded great together, unlike that crappy Ebony and Ivory number from the pedophile and the self-righteous idiot Sir Paul who didn't have enough wits to get a pre-nup from his estranged gold-digging, peg-legged wife. But Idol isn't just using Gwen as a token the way the Left uses victims to advance their social engineering schemes since next week another great Italian artisan will coach our hopefuls. A shout out to Tony Bennett who, unlike Howard Stern, can use his olive oil charms to help our remaining hopefuls.
It has been suggested that competition can be used in a good way, but can be negative "when we wish to defeat others, to bring them down in order to lift ourselves up." If you ask me, that's the lamest crap I've ever heard, but what else should we expect from the Dalai Lama? Who would listen to some barefoot man in a robe? Unfortunately, Chris S. did and now he has been cast to the wind by America. Rather than getting down and dirty, he was hoodwinked by a Mohawked Machiavellian nightmare. I'm outraged by this result. Now we will never get to see Chris make David Hasselhoff cry at the finale. Not only that, we will have to withstand another week of the utterly bland and forgettable saggy breasted Haley.
What's even more astonishing is that Sanjaya didn't even end up in the bottom three! Instead, Phil once again had a brush with near death. I'm utterly speechless about these results even more so than I was after watching the Ford commercial, I Fought the Law. I realize they showcased Chris R. as the next Clint Eastwood, but he's no High Plains Drifter. He's more like a high pitched nasally Justin retread.
Overall, I'm sad to see Chubby go, but the Lord works in mysterious ways. Perhaps, this season is turning out to be one of the lamest ever so that we can learn to appreciate this competition even when some fat senior citizen like Taylor wins. After what we've seen so far, he's looking pretty good. I'm even missing Elliott Yamin and his yellowed teeth.
Next week, Tony has his work cut out for him. But if anyone can make these kids sound barely tolerable, it should be Tony. I hope against hope Blake does a beat-boxing rendition of I Left My Heart in San Francisco. Who knows what Seacrest might do after something like that? I also expect that rather than a Mohawk, Sanjaya will grease his hair back in a duck's ass style in honor of Italian-Americans. If he does, that may be his last stand. As you may recall, when Ace slicked back his tresses last year, America provided him his long overdue walking papers.
Until next week,
Maniac - - out