Maybe it’s the music they picked this last week, I dunno. I’m getting a little bored with the show myself. Although, I’m not a lesbian I thought Kats’ boobs looked great. I.LOVE.HER.HAIR!!
I was cracking up along with Simon as Paula was crying, OMG, Elliot’s just ok, not spectacular, not worth crying over, he just sounds the same all the time to me.
I am going to miss Kellie even tho I know she wasn’t going to win. I did feel bad for her too but Paris, blegh!!!
Chris, SIMMAH down buddy, we know you can sing loud and all that but sometimes, just chill a little. I like him but no pee tingles for me.

Did big hair lead to incontinence? Or was it something more … how shall we say … in the way of an alternative life style?

… and you want Chris to bring his penis on to you? Do I have that right? Kinda like a dog chasing a car – if you caught it, would you know what to do with it?

And yes, for the benefit of all the trolls, this is a fake fight. Because Kristine – like virtually every other woman on the internet – adores me.

I tell ya … if the internet were real life, I’d never go without sex. Sometimes even with other people.

Oh wait, that was Nilbo’s line.

Nilbo said: “but no amount of “Whoopsie’s” will rescue you from the sin of ruining a song we all got laid to.”

Um, Nilbo…some of us were in diapers when that song was a hit…and a song people were whoo-hooing to.
and my hair in the 80′s was WAY bigger than that!
UP THE PRESCRIPTION ON THE GLASSES!!

Chris a penis? BRING IT ON BABY!!

(Nilbo didn’t just pick a ‘CAT’ fight with me…did he?)

Kat was a’ight – not her stellar stuff for me, but a’ight. I get so weary of the judges and their “Take some risks – whoa! Don’t take a risk!” bullshit. Yeah, she tried Whitney, but last time I looked, Whitney Houston was just a frigging singer, not a deity. You wanna deify someone, how about you start with la Streisand, not some one-album-in-the-eighties, “oops I’m a crack ho” washed up has-been? Mmmkay then.

Oh, and David Foster? Yeah, we’d like to check your ego at the fucking door, but we need valet parking for that sucker.

Elliot … never ever warmed to him. Just don’t think he’s all that. He’s fine, wouldn’t heckle him on Karaoke night at the local pub … but American Idol? Nah, buddy is cannon fodder.

Kellie: Did Andrea Bocelli do your hair, Kellie? Is that it? Is that why you came out looking like – oh, my GOD. Kellie is KRISTINE IN THE ’80′s. No wonder you never see them in the same room together.

Usually, when I hear this song, I have an odd urge to throw a pot with Demi Moore. But since Demi’s currently dating fetuses (fetii?), and since Kellie sings it in a voice like a muppet on helium, I find my butt cheeks clenching and parts of me retreating into my body like I’d just jumped into the lake for the annual New Year’s Day Polar Bear Dip.

Sorry, Kellie. It’s a beloved song. You can apologize your way out of Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered, but no amount of “Whoopsie’s” will rescue you from the sin of ruining a song we all got laid to.

Paris: See, I think with this particular song, you can’t sing it unless we can be convinced that your memories of the “way we were” include something other than pyjama parties and trick-or=treating.

Plus which, please. Don’t butcher the lyrics. Marvin Hamlisch did a half-decent job writing them, he doesn’t need your 17-year-old editing skills. “What’s TOO painful to remember …”, dear. That’s why we choose to forget it. As we will choose to forget you in a few weeks, so sorry.

Taylor: I dunno. I really try to like the dude. Nice voice, nice guy, nice nice nice. Talk about damning with faint praise. He’ll be a nice third place finisher. And we’ll all feel … good.

Chris: Buddy shows up, week after week, I’ll give him that. Still looks like a penis with ears, to me. But good pipes. Top two with Kat? Yeah, I’d say that’s about right.

Goodbye, Kellie. I will miss you in your red dress, even though it was the virginal Kat who shot us the kootch.

Girl, we need to set down and talk about my boyfriend. You are an evil woman. STOP PICKING ON HIM! he’s not yelling!! *stomping foot*

You mean to tell me you didn’t get even a wee bit of pee-pee tingle when he sang? NO? what? Your Paula’s hooch drinking hooker then!!

oh and yeah, BOOBS! I almost became a lesbian on Tuesday.