American Idol Results: 7 Become 5

Last night, the contestants paid homage to the disco era–with the exception of Kris, who sang ’80s pop, but that’s okay because he was awesome. Adam did not suck at all. Danny was a menace. Allison’s one note got played out. Lil still didn’t know what the fuck. Anoop drowned in a pool of indifference. Matt wore a hat. And Donna Summer made a nice dollar in royalties. Two of them are going home tonight. Neither of them is Donna Summer. This is American Idol. You know they can get you in East Hampton for wearing red shoes on a Thursday, and all that sort of thing. I don’t know whether you know that. I mean, do you know that?
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American Idol: Disco Piano Bar from Hell

In 1978, I saw Saturday Night Fever. It was my first R-rated movie. My aunt took me to see it, and I think she was a little mortified because half of what went on in that film was not fit for an 11-year-old’s eyes. But I had to see it! All the other kids went months ago! And Vinnie Barbarino was in it! I remember being bored most of the time, though. I just wanted to see some dancing. The point of this tale is that tonight is “Disco Night.” And I was bored most of the time, and just wanted to see some dancing. This is American Idol. You know, Connie, if you’re as good in bed as you are on the dance floor, then you’re one lousy fuck.
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American Idol Results: 7 Become…Aw, Crap!

Last night, Quentin Tarantino brought his special brand of clammy yuck to the Idol competition, serving as mentor to the Top 7 as they performed “Music from the Movies.” Specifically, this meant leering at Allison, growling at Anoop, giving Gokey and Kris instructions they did not follow, telling Matt to speak his lyrics and advising Lil to give a shit. It’s probably for the best that Quentin stick with his day job. This is American Idol. Are you going to bring me my lemonade, or do I have to squeeze it from my hat?
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American Idol: Hurls on Film

“They’ve dominated the small screen for the past six weeks,” says wee Ryan. Our boy needs to buy a new calendar, because this crap has been going on since January. “Tonight, our Top 7 takes on music from the movies.” To underscore this theme–and to make me lose my dinner all over the coffee table–Quentin Tarantino appears out of the darkness, looking like a clammy, bloated sweat gland. Oh Christ, he’s pointing at me. My eyes!! This is American Idol. I am gonna ask you questions. And every time you don’t give me answers, I’m gonna cut something off. And I promise you they will be things you will miss.
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American Idol Results: 8 Become 7

Last night, the Idols celebrated songs from the year they were born–except for Gokey, who sang a cover of a song from the year he was born. Apparently, it is Gokey’s mission in life to make me throw a brick at my television. Gokey is the new Lambert. And this is American Idol. Put the fucking lotion in the basket!
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American Idol: Tears for Years

Wow. This season is just flying by, isn’t it? Last week, we lost what’s-her-face, with the tattoos and the voice and shimmy-shimmy. Now we’re left with eight individuals with the potential to become stars, but who, in all likelihood, with just be known as “that one who was on that show, I think.” This is American Idol. The problem with your daughter is not her bed. It’s her brain.
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American Idol Results: 9 Become 8

Last night, the Idols got their iTunes on. There were bad song choices, bad performances, and most horrible of all, bad hair. Tonight, another soul gets booted with nothing to show for it but some snarky blog commentary from people like me, and the vague possibility of appearing on a future season of Celebrity Rehab. But that will be then. This will be now. And this is American Idol. I seen BeyoncĂ© at Burger King, and she was eatin’. (She was what?) She was eatin’. (Oh.)
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American Idol: Like Nine Peas in an iPod

Tonight, the producers make a half-assed attempt at being musically current. Of course the Idols will mess it up by exhuming the graves of long-dead songs and turning them into boring, unrecognizable trash. But what do you expect? This, after all, is American Idol. Camarooooon!!
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American Idol Results: 10 Become 9

Hey, where are my Idols, looking worried and/or cocky as Seacrest starts the show? This episode begins with recap clips of last night. No sign of the gang. Lazy producers. Here’s what you missed: Smokey Robinson glared at us with demon-eyes, Paula wore a tutu, Randy continued to be parody of himself, and Simon kept it real. Also, Kara was present. Mostly, a bunch of soon-to-be-forgotten people sang the hits of Motown. This is American Idol. Why don’t you dance with me? I’m not no limburger.
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American Idol: Top 10: Mo is Less

“What happens when you mix the most talked about singers in the nation with some of the most influential songs in the world?” You get the Pussycat Dolls. Am I right? Tonight, the Top 10 take on the music of Motown, which is a funny word if you stare at it long enough. Leave me alone, people. It’s late. This is American Idol. I play my bongos, listen to Odetta, and then I iron my hair, dig?
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