In case you're new to this blog or my email rants of old, welcome to my little corner of the world where I post my .02 cents on the AI performances.
It's not for the faint of heart or fair weather fan. I won't hold your hand or go easy on any of these folks. They made the choice to stick themselves on the boob tube and my snark is needle sharp.
I feel for everyone. I do.
I'm a big wet pile of mush on the inside.
Family. Illness. Money. Abuse. Self-esteem. Bad choices. Missed Opportunities. Love. Loss. Pain. Death.
But, when it comes to American Idol, I don't care.
I don't care about your story.
Unless you lived through the earthquake in Haiti, you're story is pretty much like everyone else's on this planet. Life is hard. But here's a possible shot at making it less so, SO SHUT YOUR PIE HOLE AND SING.
This isn't a storytelling competition.
It's a singing/talent competition.
I want you to sing your best, be yourself and entertain the hell out of me.
I stopped watching the general auditions a few seasons back - the focus on the abject humiliation people put themselves through based on a delusional idea that they can sing? It holds no entertainment value for me.
Life is too short for the likes of "Pants on the Ground" (and, let's face, I heard all about it without having to watch a second of it, anyway.)
I really try to avoid Hollywood week, but it's snowing out and I'm curled up in bed with the tv on. I'm only half paying attention as it's on. I'm not keeping track of names, but there are some faces and voices that are definitely making a slight impression.
I don't officially start the snark until the judges make their final cuts.
I don't invest my energy until Top 36 are announced.
So...we'll meet again on that day, shall we?