Tuesday, May 24, 2005

Short Verses, Sweet Songs

American Idol just ended. So help me god, if Carrie Underwood wins this competition, I will wage an unholy war against cellphone wielding pre-adolescents. There will be hell to pay. My vengeance will be consuming; I will feed on anger and quench my thirst with the blood of pop-country crossover fans.

I don't know what voodoo Fox Broadcasting works, but I shouldn't be so emotionally invested in artists whose music I will never, ever listen to again. Even though the finale's tomorrow, I've still got four more weeks of Britney and Kevin: Chaotic to ease my transition into television showlessness.

Not that I should care so deeply about Britney's behind-the-scenes either, you hear me, UPN witches?

Kevin: She's gonna leave me for Brad Pitt. (extended fart noise.)

The torment! The torment! His broken heart, right there on the night-vision screen. His insecurities laid out in his colonic imitations.

Britney: It's all about the magic in the kiss. If you don't have the kiss, it's nothing.

Poetry! Poetry at every turn! The golden words that fall from her tongue! I collect them like apples from the Tree of Wisdom. I place them in the basket of my heart, but o! O! I cannot bite!


Anonymous Anonymous said...

I heard that Bo was sick last night, but he STILL sounded infinitely better than Carrie "I Couldn't Hit a Pitch With a Laser Scope" Underwood.


11:02 AM  
Blogger What'sHerFace said...

Okay, for real. Carrie was almost a half-step flat on nearly every note she hit.

My DOG WHINED when she sang.

And then all the judges said was "that was a little pitchy." That's not even an adjective, first of fucking all, but more importantly, I'm afraid for their hearing. It's obviously impaired, and I would like them to seek medical attention before their record-industry careers are damaged.

11:17 AM  

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