Last week I came back from vacation in Puerto Rico only to promptly get sick and feel miserable. It seems wrong to spend several days in a warm, tropical environment relaxing and then come home and feel like crap.
I say all of that to say maybe the reason my tolerance level for the new crop of judges is so low is because I feel like warmed over mush. Or maybe it's just because this is the worst assortment of people
There is so much "I Can't" in this picture that I don't know where to begin. I can't with Nicki Minaj's hair. I can't with Mariah's "This heifer is sharing the screen with MOI" smile. I can't with Seacrest's "I'm going to need way more Prozac to get through this" look. I can't with Randy even being okay with this cacophony of people. I can't with the randomness of Keith Urban. I. JUST. CAN'T!!!
I basically tapped out on Idol when the winners all pretty much became indistinguishable. I couldn't tell you who won after David Cook. Just insert white, guitar playing male under the shower of confetti at the end of the season and you have a winner. Doesn't matter who he is as long as he's white and is a singer song writer type. You could basically walk the streets of Nashville on any given day and find your next American Idol. And that is pretty boring.
So despite Idol's desperate attempt to trump up viewers with this sad array of
I rewound Demi saying, "Nope" at 3:10 no fewer than 10 times. Bless you sweetie and the shade you throw.