After careful consideration and soul-searching discussion with my family, clergypersons, imaginary friends etc., I have come to the realization that there is simply no way I can get involved in this year’s Idol. The reasons are many, and here are but a few:
1) Forget it, Jake, it’s Chinatown
This show is beyond help and hope, brain-dead and chewing off its own limbs in a vain bid to keep itself alive. I frankly cannot watch something that gross unless it’s fictional and has supercute boys in it.
2) It ain’t what you do, it’s the way you Abdul it
What is the point of living week to week without the blessing of whatever the hell kind of tinfoil flapper/Gunsmoke prostitute outfit Paula sees fit to squeeze her crazy cans into? THERE IS NO POINT, that’s what. Not to mention she’s impossible to top when it comes to freestyling on live TV (unless your name is Tracy Morgan).
3) The Ellenphant in the room, aka “cunning stunt (casting)“
I understand she has been known to “dance” to “the pop music” on her “TV show” and all, but someone please explain to me how the frig that qualifies her to sit in judgment of all the future Ham Panders and Dead Wife Mans of the world. Say what you will of the other panelists, Paula included, but at least they’re all somehow associated with hit singles. Ellen is just so, ugh, SQUARE. I don’t get it, and I don’t want to try.
4) December 21, 2012
Shit, bro, we all got better things to do before Earth’s gravitational pull is disrupted, sending us all flying into space screaming and exploding like one big wicked fucken fireworks display
5) Special Guest Judge Katy Perry
Need I say more? Need I say more.
I’ll miss my weekly doses of Simon’s sexy winks and Ryan being Ryan, but trust me, it’s better this way. For all of us.