Oh Megan "Joy" Corkery. We hardly knew ye. Wait, scratch that--we actually knew ye really well, and that was the problem. A crazy-ass, cawing milk-it-for-all-it's-worth single mom whose voice went from interesting to nails on chalkboard within a matter of weeks. Even you, with the exaggerated faces of disappointment you made when Seadouche tried to elevate the suspense and your cawing your way to the bottom three chairs, didn't seem surprised when it was revealed that it was your turn to go. You seemed ready for it, and you told us as much before your cheesy video montage. "Baby, I'm coming home," you said to your son, and for a moment my heart went out to you.
And then I remembered your version of "Rockin' Robin," and my heart turned back into a cold, hard stone. See ya, Megan. And when Playboy comes a-callin, as I'm sure they will, tell them to suck it. You might not be the best singer in the world, but you're better than Miss April. Of course, since this is American Idol, the results show can't just be the 30 seconds it deserves. Some other randomness during the hour-long show follows after the jump.
Best Drama of the Night: I think my new favorite part of the results show is the absolute ridiculousness Seadouche tries to lay on us at the very beginning of the show. It gets more and more over-the-top every week. This week, we get "They faced the judges. Now the remaining nine contestants must face the decision of a nation--and one of them could lose it all." Dun dun dunnnnn!! I think my new dream job is to be a writer on AI. I could write silly crap all day, and people like Seadouche would take it seriously. Also, I'd get to write some better lines for Kara.
Biggest Doubletake: Was it just my shitty TV, or was Simon looking particularly red last night?
The So Bad It Was Good Moment of the Night: I have loved the Ford group commercials since the beginning of time (well, the beginning of Idol, but same thing), and last night's was on point. There was a completely amateurish Michael Jackson "Black and White" thing going on with the video, Kris Allen rapped, Scott looked creepy. As far as Idol Ford videos go, it was a classic. Did it make me want to buy a Ford? Not a chance. Did it make me laugh my ass off? You betcha. (As a sidenote, doesn't Ford have better things to spend its money on these days? Like, yknow, not laying off workers? And staying open? Just sayin.)
The So Bad It Was Bad Moment of the Night: OMG, Idol producers, can we pretty pretty please get rid of group numbers? Steve Perry, poor dude, does not need to hear Journey's "Don't Stop Believin" butchered for the millionth time. Also, is it just me, or did everyone (worst offender: Scott) seem like they were lip-syncing? I felt like I had died and gone to Milli Vanilli-Ashlee Simpson hell. If you're going to lip-sync, at least pretend like you're attempting to stay in time with the music. Jeez.
The Biggest Surprise of the Night: After a season of Idol comes to a close, it's hard to have high hopes for the winner, even if you supported them during their run. Sometimes they parlay their run into big success (see Clarkson, Underwood) and sometimes their big post-show break comes in the form of five minutes onstage a night in the touring company of an overdone musical (see Hicks). So I was a little scared when David Cook, who I was a huge supporter of last season, took the stage. But I thought "Come Back to Me" sounded great, and I was happy to hear that his debut album had gone platinum. I have high hopes for him, so I was glad to see that he seems to be thriving. So far. Even Hicks seemed like he was thriving for awhile there, though, so I'm not exhaling just yet.
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The Biggest Mindfuck of the Night: Oh Seadouche, you trickster. Why must you mess with poor Matt Giraud like that? It's not nice. But it's a little funny.
The "Oh My God, Did That Bitch Escape From a Mental Hospital" Moment: I was really happy to hear that Lady Gaga wasn't going to be playing "Just Dance," which is good, because if I hear that song one more time, I might have to beat myself senseless with my shitty TV antenna. But seriously, did that bitch not look and act like an escapee from a psych ward? From the crazy mylar outfit to the jittery dancing to the zipper eye patch for God's sakes, I thought I was in a futuristic version of One Flew Over the Cukoo's Nest. Also, what was with Adam Duritz-lite playing the violin? The whole performance sort of scared me.
Any other fun moments for you?
See you next week for "Songs From the Year You Were Born" night. Should be 80s-tastic!