In which we discover that, dear viewers, the Wizard is just a dumpy old carney with a sagging balloon. Kittens, the judges really put through some head scratchers last night. I counted 4 really Hollywood worthy performances and a whole bunch of folks who got passed on looking mighty shady. The bad was barely worth commenting on. I'm blaming Miss New Thang, Kara Dioshutthehellup. Yeah, that's the ticket.
At any rate, darlings, let's dig in shall we? Follow the Fivehead road.
Glindas: These kids are magic!
Lil Rounds. I am loving the 'Tasia 2.0! Yes, yes, yes! That’s money right there, y’all. The best part of the whole audition was the cut to Simon after maybe the first half note of the song and you could see his pupils turn into dollar signs, just like in the old school Tex Avery cartoons. Damn. This girl's a comer.
Danny Golke(?). I don't know how to spell this kids name and I'm too lazy to look it up, but y'all know who I mean. 28 year old widower. And I was all set to hate all over this fool (much like I did his compadre, who, just why did he get through again?) because you know I can't stand a sob story. But he won me over, noodles. The kid can blow. I'm sure I'll get tired of them flogging the dead wife soon enough, but for now, the ruby slipper fits.
Von Smith. Here's another one I was dying to dislike with that awful bucket hat looking like he got lost on the way to a Swingers casting call . . . 15 years ago. But lo and behold, our little fashion challenged buckaroo has a good voice. I would like for him please to stop shouting at me, though. And the show can save the sorry attempt at suspense building as well. Who among us did not know that this boy was going through?
Jessica Paige Furney. Now don't think I'm going soft on you, but the cute grandmother? Alright, Fuller. I give up. Your nerdy girl got to me. And that despite a truly awful song choice which got me to thinking that her lower register is looking mighty suspect. Message to Jessica: Your G-ma and I really want to root for you. Please choose more appropriate songs in the future. And speak up. We can barely hear you.
Flying Monkeys: They're not bad; they've just been led astray.
Matt Breitzke. Looked like a serial killer, sounded like a bar band singer. And haven't we had enough of those from Kansas City to last several lifetimes, hmmm? Simon disappointed me here. And Randy made the salient point. What? My world, it is all askew. Also, note to all white men trapped in the early 90's: let the soul patch go. It's not cute. A nation of women thanks you.
The Bobsey Twin. Tomfoolery. India is a perfect example of too many people in the church telling you you can sang. This is not Miss Rap Supreme. And she can't sing. So just where is this supposed to all end? Next.
Jamar Rodgers. Mini-fauxhawk? That's automatic fail right there. Go home immediately. I know they put you through so that there can be even more drama when your friend makes it through to day two in Hollywood and you don't, but seriously? Not at all. No.
Ashley Anderson. If this were a marketing competition or a how to suck up to others to get what you want competition, she'd get a 10, 10, 10 shabam. (Love L'il Mama! And if you're not planning on peeping ABDC's premiere tonight, then what is wrong with you?) But since this is a singing competition, I'm perplexed at why she's moving on. I mean, props to her for picking a song penned by Simon, but, yeah. That's all I have to say about that.
Side Note: Simon, this was not a good night for you and I. You put Beer Belly Bar Singer through and then this hideous song that you apparently had a hand in creating. Really, we've not yet fully recovered, you and I, from the whole ridiculousness that is the Leona Lewis phenomenon anyway. Where did the love go? We can get it back, right? Not being on the same page with you is really messing with my mind.
Michael Castro. Nepotism is bad, our outgoing President being the prime example. And his brother got the pretty gene in the family.
Elphabas: Truly, Truly wicked
Ryan Atberg. Kittens, let's all put on our best Faye Dunaway as Joan Crawford voices, yes? No. Members. Only. Jackets. EVER. Ahh. That was refreshing. And that's before we even get to the whole effect. Skinny jeans and deep vee neck tee shirt. Gold chain. Pointy toe shoes. Oh for Ryan's sake! Y'all it took me a minute to think about who this fool reminded me of and then I got it. Captian Caveman. Y'all see it, don't you?
Jasmine Joseph. You were on the receiving end of the most awesome stone faced silence ever. I would like to see that over and over and over again. Multi-colored hair can be fun!
Mia Connolly. I wanted to love to hate you. You had it all. Red weave wearing? Check. Black lipliner and purple lipstick? Check. Premium 'ho gear? Check. Oh, this should've been spectacular. Sadly it turned out to be lots of bun and no sausage. You let me down, Mia. You coulda been a contender, but instead you're just a bum.
Paula Abdul. You were dressed in green jello and you got your total bitch on last night. What happened to loopy, fun Paula? Did someone hide your meds? Not enough "coke" in the cup? Paula, we love you because you're a nonsensical rainbow that touches the colors of our heart. Don't let Kara Diodumpherquick steal your swag.
So week one is done, friends. Overall, it was a satisfying start to our quest. In fact, more than satisfying. I'm ready for more. Damn inauguration.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment