American Idol 11: Hooray For Hollywood Weak!

Ahhhh…Hollywood Week. The best part of every American Idol season. It’s do-or-die time at the Kodak Theater and all the meany-poo-poo-heads will be exposed as meltdowns ensue every time someone has to get a group together to sing that tired-ass Duffy song.

Confession time, folks. These are pretty much the ONLY episodes I ever sort of actually enjoy watching.

Tonight, half the people will go to the stage in groups of 10 and take turns singing a capella whatever they feel like.

As I am such a traitor to not even watch the St. Louis auditions show, I totally missed Johnny Keyser. Let’s get real. Keyser kind of looks like a date rapist. Pretty sure he already he has female fans lined up since some people will lineup for any “soulful white boy” with blue eyes.

Heejun Han rules. Even if Jennifer Lopez loves him, although she likely wants to hire him as a butler for her chou-chou. Heejun even sings Michael Bolton and I love this guy. GO ASIANS! GO ASIANS!

Heejun, Johnny Date Rapist, and a blond Gabi are the only ones who make it to the second day.

Elise Testone and her broke-down rough face and throaty rough voice. I love her. I want to chug an inordinate amount of whiskey with Elise and then start a bar brawl against Baylie Brown, who just happened to be there because her boyfriend wanted to eat the $0.10 chicken wings after bible study. Hallie Day, I’m still giving you the side eye, too, don’t you worry.

Jen Hirsch is awesome. She emits a real sort of earthiness. Lauren Gray may have a good voice but then I look at her and think LAUREN ALAINA NOOOOO. Then I think someone who might have been Lil Rounds Lil Sister sang. I missed that because I was Tweeting.

Not all the girls made it through, of course, this would be the only way to ensure an Idol winner would in fact, be of female origin. But I bet in the end it would be discovered the winner was just tucking peen or has been reassigned genders as an infant. Anyway, some other girls are shown biting the big one, which is sort of fine because I don’t want to hear any of them sing Adele’s Chasing Pavement ever again.

So if you get sent home during Day 1 of Hollywood Week, do they still let you go on a bus tour of the stars’ homes?

Ahhhh…there you are, golden boy. Phil Phillips. Oh how I have missed you. You are the great WGWG hope of the season, my friend. And how thrilled am I that you have NEVER BEEN ON A REAL PLANE BEFORE. You are perfect. And you even balance out the OMG I HAVE NEVER BEEN ON A REAL PLANE BEFORE with a little EXCEPT THE ONES YOU JUMP OUT OF.

The best part of Phillip Phillips is that when you take away the guitar, he dances just like Taylor Hicks. Reed Grimm sings I’ve Got A Golden Ticket from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory and he reminds me of a goofier, skinnier, Casey Abrams. He also looks just like he stopped in from delivering pizzas. Travis Orlando is back for a second time in Hollywood still reeling off his mother breaking his father’s heart for some other man. And I just think he should sing some Bruno Mars or something and I guess so did that cold bitch JLo so they send him home AGAIN. Oh come on now. Poor Travis. You couldn’t have even let him see another day when you’ve wasted the airfare to send him out there twice? Phillip Squared and Pizza Delivery Boy get to stay and Phillip Squared flashes some Jason O’Mara-ish grin and Reed’s all happy, but knows he’s gotta make a couple of more deliveries before going to the bar.

The camera crew milks Travis Orlando’s pain as much as possible. Also going home: Ramerio Garcia, Wolf Hamlin, and Jenny Schick are also sent packing. 68 total were booted.

WHAT IN ALL DANNY GOKEY HELL IS THIS GUY CRYING ABOUT HIS DAUGHTER? (And Jane Carrey, don’t even get me started.) I missed Adam Brock’s audition and he might have a bit of spunk in him, describing his voice as that of a large black woman trapped inside of him. Alas. Adam plays up the infant daughter for points and sings Marc Cohn’s Walking In Memphis because that is one of La Lopez’s favorite songs. (Smart tactical move. I hope you also early career-Affleck-ed your goatee.)

Ok Jane Carrey. You are kind of likable when you talk. You seem remarkably self-aware and well-spoken. However, your father is Jim Carrey. (And wouldn’t he have maybe kind of known JLo since her Fly Girl days?) But come on. Have him buy you a career like Lana Del Rey’s daddy. What are you doing trying out for American Idol? And going to Hollywood for Jane is clearly just having her bring a suitcase to a nearby hotel. DID YOU REALLY HAVE TO GET SOMEONE TO COVER YOUR WAITRESS SHIFTS FOR THIS?

Jane is okay…I mean, she can hold a tune better than me, ya know? But really?  They sent her home. And I sort of feel bad because she’s all well-spoken and stuff but then they had to do the post-interview where she says she called her Dad and…also, seeing Adam Brock talk to his daughter on his laptop reminds me to once again ponder aloud WHY THE HELL DO YOU HAVE TO PUT STUPID HEADBANDS ON YOUR INFANT DAUGHTERS? So people know they’re a girl? Come on. You can barely hold your head up and you shit yourself a few times a day in between slobbering all over yourself. You really want a giant flower strapped to your head.

JESUS CHRIST DO NOT EVEN PLAY MERCY IN THE BACKGROUND.

David Leathers, the 17-year-old tiny ladies’ man in Dre’s Beatz and Ray Bans. He’s got the swagger Wil Smith only buys for his children. Shannon Magrane gets a total strike against her this time around because she sings Alicia Keys’ Fallin. Little Leathers gets odd props on my behalf because the little bastard sings Celine Dion’s Because You Loved Me. It is so very very wrong. Yet so very very right. Like how I feel about Jessica Phillips and her Daniel Craig-as-Blomkvist shawl-collared sweater-wearing stroke victim boyfriend Angelo. Jessica sounds kind of common and she sings a horrible Whitney Houston song. And she has a ridiculous sob story. (Angie Zeiterman and that NBA dancer Brittany Kerr who should just really go on The Bachelor already also make it.)

As has been previewed all damn night–ONE OF THE MOST SHOCKING MOMENTS IN IDOL HISTORY–is about to FINALLY happen. So a girl biffs it. Who hasn’t biffed it? I once biffed it on a ferry in Croatia trying to pick up this hot tour guide before we had to depart the boat and guess what? I got back up and talked to him and got laid in a Tito-era prefab hotel that night. That’s what you do when you biff it. YOU GET BACK UP.

Erica Van Pelt has an decent voice but this is the problem. THE VEST. Erica is not a tiny girl. She’s not fat, but she’s not a twig. Unless you’re a size 2, you really can’t pull off a micro-vest over a bulky plaid shirt. And even if you could, you don’t want to because its just a horrid look. Pair it with a tanktop and skinny jeans. That little vest and that big red plaid shirt just makes you look like a backwoods lesbian lumberjack, sweetheart. And most lesbians I do know would do it with the tanktop.

Creighton Fraser might need to be shot because he looks like a pocket-sized Constantine Maroulis who just got de-loused. Aaron Marcellus wears eyeglasses.

Ohhhh. Lauren Mink. I like her because of her Connie Britton-ish and well, if you’re gonna attempt Heart’s Alone, do it in the early rounds (Do not even try to top La Princesa del Mariachi!!!) She seemed a bit nervous, but kind of like Mrs. Coach Taylor going in front of the PTA or something. Jeremy Rosado aka DIRTY takes the stage and promptly gushes over Attila La Lopez’s ethereal beauty. If I was a dude on this show, you better believe I would do the same thing–and then bust out some Luther Vandross Superstar.

Poor Symone Black. She’s gonna be the girl who fell off the stage on American Idol for at least another year or two. And while waiting for her fall…ooops. DVR cut it off. Guess I’ll have to watch it somewhere online. How good was it? Yeah…thought so.

Oh well. Let’s get to the vicious in-fighting and meltdown mania of the GROUP SING. One more night of this? Well…okay. It is better than the alternative.