And yes, SXSW is exactly as ridic as you think it is, so let's get through this and I can get back to the questionable drummers and intriguing lead singers. All manner of effects played on the memories of various points in the competition so we can get rid of somebody in particular, and all the neon names of the people flashing by like they're characters on a superhero show we will never see, and we're good. I love the people that do the video production, they earn every penny.
But they are not my job, and frankly I couldn't process it if I tried, so let's do this. Happy St. Patrick's Horrible Genocide, everybody. I wasn't raised to enjoy that holiday, thanks to 10% wicca, 80% Irish race martyrdom and 10% lazy. And then Simon and Ryan talk about their relationship more or less maturely, and sadly we bring back the POV -- wherein the Judgery by a unanimous vote can save one person -- which I really hoped we wouldn't have at all, because it's gross and only exists to make Wednesdays worth watching.
But then David Cook sings "Jumpin' Jack Flash," and you know, it's Cook. What am I gonna say? I crushed and hated so many times that he's barely a human to me, he's like somebody I worked with at Target even though I've never worked at Target. If I were watching this show I would say that he was his same hotness but more, but I've never seen this show and he's playing the Stones so who barely cares anyway. Nice falsetto. You're still not my boyfriend, stop trynabe. Of all the people ever on this show, excluding the contestants I've since gotten to know -- which is like two in ten years, don't think I'm starfucking -- I am still sort of in love with old David Cook. Not a secret really.
So whoever you are, ladies that need me to love him, I officially love him. Starting like one million years ago. Sorry I haven't twitter-friended you back, but if you have a David Cook background on your twitter page -- and a shocking amount of you do -- I apologize for standing back. I'm sure you're awesome, and I love you, and I love DC as much as you do, but I've been doing this job a million years and I am no less comforted by that. It is not a reflejo on you. If anything, it's a reflejo on our Cookie. Monster's internet penetration. Because if you are a Friend of Cook, twitter wants you. And if you have ever talked shit about Cookie Monster, twitter and livejournal want you and don't want you and hate you and love you and link-gather you and it's all very internet. "I'm gay, we make culture" is how it feels, but this Cook thing is a little different and it's weird. I just wanna send somebody home and keep drinking, so come on.
Tape of "Tick Tick Boom" which is not a song, and there are so many Idols that it doesn't really matter what they do. It's involving mostly Andrew -- who is fucking dying that he's involved and makes the whole thing creepy -- and Crystal, who would rather die than even be here. This part is going to be short slash won't happen. David Cook sings a song, it's adorable but takes place all the way over there, plus watching a cleanable automobile. Guess what, Legit Casey was sick during that part where they designed their Legit Shit skins that covered their leopard horrible car skins, do you have one where can you get one, and of course Andrew is like "You know what would look really classy" and that is where I stopped even looking at the screen, because yeah. Anyway, Paige is in the bottom three.
Over on the boys' side, Lee reconsiders the "moment" and how he can more Lee our Lee time at that Lee part of the week. And he's fine. Next is Siobhan Magnus, who is magic, and Ryan asks Ellen if she believes in Siobhan as much as she says she does, and of course this week she is safe. Then comes poor sweet Aaron Kelly of the million comparisons that we need to talk about once again, but whatever he's safe. Over Andrew and Tim, which is hilarious. Andrew acts like he "connected" and Tim acted like he "connected" and as retarded as that word is, they both failed, but if it were me based on last time, they both sucked and Tim is in the bottom three with Paige. Whom, of the two, has not yet discovered nakedness as a coping strategy, and thus discovered real breakfast, and thanks. And we meet some pants blonde that pretends to play the guitar while having a nervous breakdown, and I don't know about you, but we did that in the 90s. Give me something, hoodie. You're not D Cook. Not even Seacrest can pretend to care this week.
Didi, as Ryan likes it, is okay with her "darker" pretense at being the not "darker" that Siobhan keeps doing but the almost darker that nobody else has ever been. Which, by the way, is also a total lie. Didi is normal and Siobhan is normal and the whole thing is trumped up. So Didi is safe and Crystal is obviously safe. Then Mike and Katie and all the other obvious favorites give us their same favorite bullshit things, and finally Ryan sets the bottom three up: Paige, Lacey and Tim.
Will in my kitchen goes, "Do you... agree with that?" Absolutely. Totally. But when they send Tim home, it's harder to agree with. I mean, that's what I expected, and the flat shallow level at which I watch this show I knew that was happening, but those two ladies -- who clearly were going to be the two, of whom the first would go home, those two ladies should be the last. They're not the least famous, or powerful, or talented, but welcome to this show. Then my favorite and most rashy trashy bashy nasty girl in the universe, Ke$ha, sings that same song again, but instead of "Blah Blah" she's upset by "TiK ToK" and boys that don't work the same way we be dealing with. Needless to say, Ryan loves it.
Paige became awesome, and just like last week and forever Lacey continued to be the worst. Boing-boing music, she pretends to sing like she does every week, beautiful but time to go, and the judges pretend to care like always, and then it's over. Over. Over. SXSW says over, drink up, see you next Tuesday and not in the mean way.