American Idol Top 9: Results

On Tuesday, the contestants performed songs from the Lennon/McCartney songbook. Yoko may have broken up the Beatles, but it took this show to destroy them. And in the end, the love you take…is equal to the number of white Hanes t-shirts in Simon’s closet. In a mere fifty-nine wasted minutes, one of these suckers is going home. Or are they…? This is American Idol. “He’s very fussy about his drums, you know. They loom large in his legend.”

Group Sing. Beatles Medley. Dweezil is here, there, and everywhere (especially if he can hold hands with Andrew). Big Mike, wearing a vest, looks like his upper body is fit to burst. It’s just a matter of what’ll go first: his belly or his swelled head. Who needs iCarly? Aaron is an adorable role model for teen girls everywhere. She’s so refined. Tim owns this show and nobody has figured that out yet. He has magic like Bat-Mite. Andrew got to get us into his gang-free life. If I didn’t know better, I’d say Casey was high as a kite. You know how Nick used to be on Freaks and Geeks? He’s like that. Wow, are there really only three female contestants left? Were the girls really that awful this year? Katie, looking wonderfully mod, should town down the body language. She looks like she’s unclogging a sink. Siobhan lip syncs just like Jujubee. And Crystal seems to be freshly washed, but it could be a trick of the light. The Idols are fools on a hill and all they need is love, love. And votes. Desperately.

Ford Ad. “Will It Go Round in Circles.” The Idols take turns passing around a kaleidoscope (subtext: an LSD-laced joint), checking out (tripping on) colorful images of themselves and Ford vehicles in various psychedelic patterns (having hallucinations). Hey, at least they’ve ended their crime spree.

The results are chaotic, so bear with me.

Siobhan sang “Across the Universe” like it was on life support but she was hoping to be in its will. Will Siobhan please stand in the center of the stage? Yes, certainly.

Crystal Bowersox sang “Come Together” with a heinous didgeridoo. If waterboarding was a musical instrument… Will Crystal join Siobhan at the center of the stage? Indeed, she will.

Katie Stevens sang “Let It Be.” Okay, Seacrest, if you say so. Will Katie go stand with the other girls? Katie does what she’s told.

Crystal is safe. Sit down. Siobhan and Katie are safe. Sit down! So that’s about 7 minutes of nothing, right there.

Performance. Something called Jason Derulo takes the stage. It appears to be a creature spawned from Usher’s sweaty armpit. See what happens when you don’t use Purell? Bacteria grows. Then it sings on American Idol. The song is called “Whatcha Say.” I say Jason Derulo is a tool.

Performance. David Archuleta shows up to let us know he’s still alive and he now has pubes. He’s still delightfully wheezy, although why he’s singing “Imagine” instead of his new hit single, I don’t…oh…oh, I see…

More results…

Now we’re going to form two groups of guys at the center of the stage.

Dweezil sang “Hey, Jude” adequately before losing his mind and hauling out a bagpipe player. Go stand on the far side of the stage, Dweezil. He goes.

Big Mike sang a queer version of “Eleanor Rigby,” which was only mildly offensive, but now he’s like “If you want the studio version, check me out on iTunes.” And thus, Big Mike can kiss my tan ass. Go stand on the near side of the stage, jerkwad. He goes.

Casey Jones-James sang “Jealous Guy” which I don’t know very well, making it easier to forget. Thanks, Casey! Now go stand near Dweezil. Okay. Now hold Dweezil’s hand. Okay. Now kiss him, ever so gently. Casey? Are you there? Casey?

Aaron Kelly sang “The Long and Winding Road,” because he’s actually been on a highway. He’d considered performing “When I’m 64,” but being only 16, Aaron found the lyrics confusing and strange. Go stand near Big Mike. He goes.

Tim Urban (deafening girl-screams from the audience at the mention of his name) (deafening man-screams from my living room from me) sang “All My Loving,” which I did download, without prompting, so think about that, Big Mike, think about that. Tim, go stand with Dweezil and Casey. He goes.

Andrew Garcia sang “Can’t Buy Me Love” and continued his downward spiral from awful to craptastic. Andrew, go stand with Big Mike and Aaron. He goes.

So we’ve got two groups. One is safe, the other is Bottom Three.

Group 1 is Dweezil, Casey, and Tim. They could be the losers, but for Dweezil. He’s good, and, I think, safely popular.

Group 2 is Big Mike, Aaron, and Andrew. They could be the losers, too, but for Big Mike. This is odd.

Group 1 is safe! Wow, really? Tim isn’t in the B3 for a change? Incredible. More incredible: Big Mike is in the B3. That’s what you get for being cocky, Man Mountain.

So our Bottom Three is now Big Mike, Aaron, and Andrew. Boom! Aaron is sent back to safety, leaving us with two guys who can both leave, for all I care. Andrew makes the most sense to go, on account of the suckitude, but…

Performance. Rihanna debuts her new single “Rockstar 101,” which features the lyric “I’m a rockstar, hey baby/I’m a rockstar.” I think her umbrella-ella-ella has sprung a leak. And for those that care, she’s dressed like Madonna in the “Human Nature” video, by way of Diana from V (classic flavor). And her bruises have healed nicely.

Results continue…

Big Mike and Andrew. The contestant who is staying is…Andrew?! Clutch the pearls, Mary!

Big Mike must now sing for his life, so he sings that song “Women Work Hard and Have Babies and I Love Women ‘Cause I’m a Man Who Fathers Babies and My Wife is a Mother of a Baby and a Woman So Download Me.” The judges confer and converse. The song ends. Mike is going home, right? Right?

No. The judges use their goddamn Judges’ Save on him. He’s staying for another week. I know. I know!! This fucking show, sometimes.

On the plus side, we’re blessed with a double-elimination next week (and cursed with the return of Adam Lambert). I figure Mike will depart, Matt Giraud-style, before the month is over. But if Crystal, Dweezil, or Siobhan spin out, they’re gone forever. The J-Save is spent. Way to go, judges!

And with Big Mike aggressively pounding on his chest like he’s trying to restart his heart (pound on your head, dude, and knock some sense into yourself), I bid y’all a fine farewell.

Next week, more of this. And maybe a little less of that.


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