celebrity blogger

I said Chris R. and some of you said Chris S. You were right and I was wrong. I guess "denial" ain't just a river in Egypt. (Sorry, I couldn't help it. I'm a sucker for bad puns) What I mean is that I was hoping Hurley would stick around a little longer, and I've been unwilling to admit his declining performance quality. He still may have done enough to have Hasselhoff shed some tears of joy, though.

The good news is that he's number ten. That means he's been getting at least AFTRA scale for the last two weeks and will get to make some loot on tour. An AI "work for hire" isn't exactly winning the Powerball lottery, but mini-bar debts won't be a problem anymore. I love the mini-bar.

Plus, playing arenas for 10-20,000 screaming fans is any singer's dream. It's the kind of opportunity that makes established indie acts loath and despise American Idols. I can't really blame them either. I'd be mad too if I watched someone do in nine months what I still hadn't achieved after years of work.

That lack of infrastructure eventually catches up to the Idols, though. Overnight celebrities are forgotten just as fast as they're made. Just wait, in a couple weeks time when we're still caught up on "When will what's-his-name finally be voted off the show" and "I wonder who will win the diva three-way throw-down," the guy with the curly hair will slip from our minds.

It's amazing what a great set of songs will do for the show. I use the word "great" loosely since most of the songs sung on Idol were chart-toppers at one point or another. I suppose The Police, The Pretenders and The Cure are more the kind of thing that I'd go pay money to see in concert. So, for me, tonight was a good one. Thanks Gwen for having great taste in music.

Musical taste can't save some, though. Just when I thought what's-his-name was finally going away, once again he's found a way to set office break rooms a buzz with his faux-hawk worthy of the West Village on Halloween night --not that there's anything wrong with it. There's a future in freakiness -- just not in singing. Not for him anyway.

Some guy sang some song. What was his name? Oh yeah, it's Peter Noone. Then, some lady, who looked smoking hot for a 60-year-old, sang some unknown song. What was her name again? Had to rewind that one too to remember it was Lulu. Finally Stephanie gets voted off, and I only remember her name because I realized last night that up until then I still had no idea who she was. And that about sums it up for me tonight.

I have a good memory, I swear!

I'm extremely into '60s music. When they started reading off the British band names last night, I got pretty green with envy. I tried so hard to get Van Morrison and Beatles songs cleared for television, but only got shot down time and again. Apparently not much has changed since then, given the fact I didn't recognize any of those songs with the exception of maybe two or three.

Gina, this one's for you. You were almost in tears up there and you mentioned how nasty blogs get you down, so I thought I'd throw you a nice one. I want you to stick around for a while.

Don't become a parody of yourself. Inevitably every year as contestants hear more and more about what people like and dislike about them, they try harder and harder to live up to whatever that is. Then, usually it gets to the point where it's blatantly obvious to the audience, and they stop caring about what made you cool in the first place. I think last year's winner and his low record sales are evidence of that.

Don't trip out; you don't have to try too hard to be a rocker. You already have that vibe, so just sing whatever you have to from week to week and it'll come out. That's about as much rock as Idol will let you have anyway.

How best can I hide my true feelings about results shows? Hmmm. Sarcasm? Again? I think I need to. That choreography was awesome!

The stage movements aren't so bad by themselves really; it's more that the poor contestants weren't chosen for any skills in movement -- and it shows. It always reminds me of what an all-star high school show choir might be like.

So, while trying not to completely disconnect during the medley, I started playing the look-alike game and came up with a few. Tell me if you agree.

I have been asked many times about what really goes on during the audition process. Do you really sleep outside? Do Randy, Simon and Paula see everyone? Do you go straight to Hollywood?

Experiencing this process firsthand, I am going to give you a little insight on what really goes on.

For my audition in Las Vegas, 9,000 people showed up. I got in line at 2 in the morning and waited until noon. Fortunately, I got very lucky and did not have to sleep outside for a few days. When they finally opened the doors, we waited in line yet again for a wristband and filled out some paperwork.

Tonight's episode of our favorite traveling circus of star-makers made a pit stop in New York, where the freaks were out in full force, and more singers made it through to Hollywood than any city yet this season. No one seemed to know exactly how many people showed up to audition, but the stadium was at capacity so we got the point. That brought back a few memories and had me wanting to give out sympathy votes for what these guys are going through on national television.

I waited in line outside the Aloha Stadium in Honolulu for a couple of days, alongside thousands of people singing their lungs out, trying to prove to anyone who would listen that they were the next American Idol. Sometimes I get so caught up in the who's who and what's what of it all that I forget I was actually a part of it. I know what it feels like to stand in front of Paula, Randy and Simon, waiting for them to give you the thumbs up or down. It pretty much sucks. It's probably the same feeling as hanging your balls out the window. I've never done that one before, though, so I don't know.

Before I begin, I would like to inform you on something: I had an audition of my very own this week to decide who was going to be my fish of the month. (Usually, my fish only last for about a month.) Luckily, I have welcomed Vinny the Beta Fish into my home, and we are off to a great start.

We start our second week off in good ol' Memphis. Thank God I once had a spelling bee with the word Memphis, or we could have been in some serious spelling trouble. It was absolutely another drama-filled hour of television.
Sixteen-year-old Timika Sims kept us so entertained with her complete lack of personality and pronunciation, and she was able to top it off by sounding absolutely nothing like her idol, Ashanti. The issue here is Ashanti isn't that good to begin with, so to sound even worse was a little frightening.

Something lit a fire under the folks in Memphis tonight. Maybe because the odds favor finding someone from the 16,000 who showed up, or maybe just because Jesus decided to audition too? Who knows, but there was some damn fine talent finally!

I actually really liked Jesus, Osama, or Sean (whatever he calls himself) and Sundance, who -- now that I think about it -- looks a lot like Satan. I wonder, though, aside from bringing heaven and hell together, what American Idol will be able to do for these guys once the show is over. I'm sad to say I don't know how much their individuality will matter to me once I've seen them in a Ford commercial or do one of those song-and-dance numbers. I'm trying to forget how many times I had to throw up my jazz hands.