Previously: I used to slightly care. Tonight: Another eight sing and throw attitude, and the two who got the most airtime a month ago will be voted to the finals. Hope I didn't give anything away.
Credits. If you play the theme song backwards, you'll dream about the City of Gugs.
Ryan "Pretty Boy Floyd" Seacrest greats us from atop of the Seal of Tsathoggua, wearing another shirt with a pattern designed by blind people with palsy. He makes some big deal of the fact that apparently his microphone wasn't working for part of the live results show last week, rendering him mute to millions of lucky East Coasters. I, unfortunately, got to hear every idiotic word. Ryan introduces Simon "I Love To Hate You" Cowell by claiming Simon has brought vanity "to a whole new level." A level that's still about twenty stories below yours, Ryan. Then Ryan walks behind the judges' table and holds a hand over Simon's mouth when he introduces Paula "Plastic" Abdul. And also so that Simon can get a taste of Ryan's sweet boyflesh to tide him over until the two of them get home. Simon asks Ryan if he's wearing perfume. Ryan asks Simon if he's wearing lipstick. It's obvious that the answer to both questions is yes. Oh, and Randy "Giant" Jackson is there, too. Ryan pulls out a $100 bill and says he'll give it to Randy if he can go the entire night without saying "dude," "dog," or "man." Paula and Simon join in with money of their own. Randy agrees, then immediately slips and says "dog." Heh. Oops. There goes his Twinkie money.
Ryan reminds us of the previous winners, as well as the blah blah blah text-message-cakes, as he heads over to Pimp Central to introduce the kids and their friends and families. He makes a joke about validating parking to one of the family members, who totally rolls his eyes at him. I'm wondering if it was even an accident that Ryan's mic was turned off.
Anyway, the first contestant tonight is Sylvia Chibiliti, 19, who has total drag queen hair and make-up. She's got blonde streaks in her long hair and eye shadow all the way up to her eyebrows. In her interview, she tells us she's from Sacramento but lived in Africa for eight years. Sylvia's the one who blew the lyrics in the group performances and burst into tears. Man, those group performances totally didn't matter, did they? It's entirely for the purpose of creating drama. She tells us that it's her "goal" in music to be a "diva." Uch. If you have to call yourself a diva, then you're not. Also, the label of "diva" isn't a goal; it's a consequence of oh, never mind. In conclusion: Not!