Posts Tagged ‘American Idol’

Dear Steven Tyler & Nicki Minaj…

Thursday, November 29th, 2012

American Idol judge Nicki Minaj is pissed at former American Idol judge Steven Tyler because he said (something like) “she’d pass on Bob Dylan if he were on Idol.” So then Nicki said Steven was being racist because… oh I don’t know… does it matter? When’s The Voice on? These people are fucking morons.

 

FOOTNOTE:

For the record…
1. I don’t like Bob Dylan (except that one version where Miley Cyrus is covering him –JUST BEING HONEST!)
AND
2. I am very white (except when I’m about to go to a wedding, then I am very orange – thx for nothing Neutrogena MicroMist Airbrush Selfless Tanner – figure your formula out already).
BUT
3. I had a huge crush on a black guy in college.

I think I put their issue to bed. What should I tackle next, Israel-Palestine?

 

Dear Michael Keaton…

Wednesday, November 28th, 2012

Rumor has it that Joseph Gordon-Levitt might be the next Batman. Or something like that. I have no idea why there are so many Batmen to begin with.  It’s number three on my list of “Things we have too many of”.

Things we have too many of:
1. Kardashians (the actual people)
2. Kardashians (the spin-off TV shows)
3. Batmen
4. Reality TV shows involving singing, judged by at least one aging pop star and at least one Black dude

  

Dear Nikki Reed…

Tuesday, October 18th, 2011

Well la dee da, look at little miss fancy pants.  Nikki Reed (I know, you’re like “who??” — she’s one of the chicks in Twilight) got married last weekend and she wore a dress that was adorned with 100 diamond buttons.

She’s damn lucky those Occupy Wall Street protesters aren’t reading Us Weekly or she’d have had a dirty hippy sit-in at her elegant Malibu affair — and nothing ruins a classy event like a drum circle.

Dear Beyonce…

Thursday, May 19th, 2011

Last night I decided to watch American Idol for the first time this season.  I’ve watched my fair share of Idol but didn’t get into it this year because I figured J Lo would be too annoying to handle.  I mean come on, what’s her deal?  She had like 3 hit songs, a handful of shitty movies, and I swear on my autographed picture of David Copperfield that she’s only famous because of that time she came to the Grammys with Diddy wearing that Versace dress that showed her bellybutton. Before that dress all she was was just an anonymous In Living Color fly girl.. but post-dress she morphed into one half of the rom-com-ruining Bennifer, next step, superstardom!  Anyway, so no.  I haven’t been watching Idol this season.

Last night, however, I thought I should check in and see what’s going on.  I turned on the TV hoping to see some charming little Carrie Underwood-esque nobody belt out some heartfelt ballad but instead I get a giant blonde Beyonce on a horse with back-up dancers doing moves that looked something your chiropractor would tell you not to do — I think they should call that it the “sexy seizure”.  She just kept yelling “Who run the world? Girls! Who run the world? Girls!… over and over and over again (someone has apparently  given up on writing lyrics entirely).

Listen B, we’ll never run anything with grammar like that. Can we try “Who runs the world?” or “Who is running the world?” or maybe “The world is run by whom?”  Now please get off my screen so I can get back to watching that adorable southern crooner who makes the weird sexy faces.

 

 

 

Dear un-named Navy SEALs who croaked that dipshit bin Laden,

Monday, May 2nd, 2011

On a day like today who can write fan mail to reality TV stars (Nene Leakes deserves a shout out after throwing down with Star Jones last night on Celebrity Apprentice) or baby-making songstresses (Mariah Carey finally popped!) or the object of random celebrity sightings (I did a show with Brian Dunkleman — the original host of American Idol — on Friday night; not braggin, just… well yes, I guess I’m bragging)? Celebrities schmelebrities, today my heart felt fan mail goes to the brave ass-kickers who wacked Osama bin Laden last night!

As many of my readers know, I spent some time in the Navy myself. Granted, the most dangerous thing I ever did was attempt a 10-minute jump rope workout on the flight deck of a Guided Missile Destroyer* that was rocking and rolling in the unpredictable seas of the Northern Arabian Gulf (very, very bad idea). Oh, and then this one other time I got into the habit of eating a pie (no shit, a whole pie**) every single day for like two months of a six month deployment so that I no longer fit into any of my uniforms… not really dangerous but trust me, VERY uncomfortable. Tight pants are a girl’s worst enemy. Speaking of enemies (what a segue!), we all have one less of them today thanks to a handful of brave Navy SEALs. Thanks, guys. keep up the good work. You, and everyone else in our military are what make us the best damn country on earth! (well jazz and corn dogs helped too, but it’s really mostly you guys)

* Shout out to USS HIGGINS!! What what!!
** Seriously, another day, another pie: lemon meringue, pecan, strawberry cream, apple, key lime… it was amazing! Until I put on 18 pounds. Then it was the opposite of amazing.

Dear Paula Abdul…

Tuesday, April 26th, 2011

Paula Abdul might be back in show business, folks! Simon Cowell was interviewed about his new show The X Factor (kind of like Idol but… well… yeah, kind of like Idol) and he said he’s trying to get Paula signed on as one of the judges. I know exactly what this is… this is a classic case of “forgetting how crazy an ex was”.  I see my guy friends go through this all the time. They’ll date a chick who will be at a dinner party and tell non-stop crazy drunken rambling stories about how she almost lost a bet in college where she’d have to make out with a dog and everyone at the dinner table is like, ummmmm, WTF is up with this chick… then my buddy breaks up with her because she’s legitimately looney tunes, and 6 months later she pops back up in his life and they’re checking in together at the Hollywood Bowl and posting Facebook albums titled “Disneyland w/ my babe!” This should be a warning to all men, including Simon Cowell: just because you forget how crazy a chick is doesn’t mean she got less crazy, it just means you have a selective memory (and oh by the way, I’m pretty sure your girlfriend made out with a Golden Retriever.)

Dear Eminem…

Thursday, February 24th, 2011

Eminem has just passed Lady Gaga as the world’s most popular living person on Facebook.  I’ll be honest, I think it has less to do with his latest CD and more to do with that Chrysler ad.  Have you guys seen it?  Making Detroit look look anything less than straight up terrifying — that takes some skill.  He already won a Grammy this year, is there time for the Oscars to add a new category: “Best Lead in a Commercial”?  I mean let’s face it, Detroit is a total shit hole.  It’s like a bigger, dirtier Buffalo — but at least Buffalo has good wings.  Detriot’s got nothing other than, uh, hmmmm, well… I really wanted to put something good right here and after 3 minutes of staring at my computer screen I can’t seem to think of a single thing.  Yet somehow you throw Eminem behind the wheel of a Chrysler and score it with some pulsating “8 Mile” tunes and I’m over here rooting for Detroit like it’s an ugly 3-year old on Toddlers & Tiaras or the homeless son of an addict on Idol.  Let’s go Detroit!!

PS. Just discovered one good thing about Detroit: they’re erecting a life size statue of Robocop downtown. Ok ok Detroit, sheesh! You win!

Dear Nicole Scherzinger…

Friday, December 17th, 2010

Pussycat Doll front-woman/lead singer/girl-who-steals-the-mic-from-the-other-girls-all-the-time Nicole Scherzwhattheeffishernameger has officially filled the gaping hole left in my life when American Idol dropped Paula Abdul.  As a “judge” on The Sing-Off, she offers consistently nonsensical commentary comprised mostly of crazy analogies that would probably only make sense to the homeless guy outside my building who speaks in made-up languages and thinks his collection of feathers are legitimate pets.

Like Paula, she seems like she’s just washed down a potpourri of anti-depressants and muscle relaxants with half a bottle of scotch.  Another similarity: I have no idea what race she is — I think she’s the “misc.” they put as the last option on forms at the DMV — but I do know that I’m wildly jealous of the body skin of such “misc.” folks and wish I had a little “misc.” in my pasty white Irish blood.  Nicole chimes in after each performance with something stupid.  Like really stupid.  Like so stupid you seriously can’t believe you’re listening to it.  Like this last night:

“I felt like I was in a music video and it was slow motion, you follow me? And I was like in my favorite candy shop and I was like pickin’ all my favorite candy and I was in heaven.  You follow?”

Are we sure she knows she’s on live television and not in her bed, just waking up, on the phone with her best girl friend describing the dream she just had? Thank God for Nick Lachey (never thought I’d say that), who cut her off before she went into the part about how “all of a sudden I was naked and my whole 6th grade class was there and we were at the candy shop and then out of no where, all of a sudden I’m not at the candy shop anymore, I’m in a Subway, the sandwich store not the mode of public transportation, and Tom Selleck shows up, but get this, he didn’t have a mustache, you follow me?  It was sooooo crazy.”