It just wouldn’t be right if the day of the biggest event in live television didn’t make an appearance on my blog. Obviously if I’d been a blogger when Buzz walked on the moon I would’ve told you my thoughts and feelings on that so why should this be much different? Well, besides the fact that I stopped caring who won many weeks ago. It’s sad when you actually give a hoo-ha who the guest host is and not so much a shit who’s left in the competition.
At this point I almost wish I treated Idol like I treat my TV step-child, The Bachelor. Go ahead and suck all you want, Bach, I will not be tuning into you until the final rose. Sure I care about you! I legally adopted you didn’t I? Quit whining. I used to watch all your episodes but I was disappointed every time. Somehow, I’m still slightly invested in whether the Bach is going to piss out and hand out a “promise” ring. Yeah, promise to pretend to acknowledge your existance until the show is over and then date the one (more like twelve) with the fake knockers from the show who were dumb as a spice rack.
Let me tell you, this plan worked out perfectly. I didn’t know either of the women at the final rose ceremony and watching the “hunky” bachelor was painful but at least the fucker got on one knee and proposed. Whether or not they’ll marry remains to be seen. I’m sure they won’t but I like the sack on a guy who agrees to go on a show about getting MARRIED and actually proposes.
So back to Idol. Can you feel the excitement in the air? Will the winner be Blake and his goat sounds or the ever grinning, perfectly decent, Jordin. Will Ryan’s hair have more highlights? How many highlights can you have before your hair just burns clean off? Clearly it will be Jordin. But I won’t be buying her CD.