Bill Maher is having an acid flashback in the audience, that's the first thing you notice. The second is that LaKisha is high throughout the entire hour. On marijuana. Those two things are number two and number three on the list of awesome, awesome things about this episode. The first most awesome thing is LaKisha's singout, which is triumphant, cheeky, strong, and fabulous. I can't remember liking her this much in a while. Also, it means Blake is safe. Ryan, Paula, and Simon all flirt with Jessica Alba, which is uncomfortable three different ways at least. Ryan also flirts with Uncle Nigel; the gambit works and Simon kisses his ass all night, with Terri Seymour looking on with lockjaw and a bottle of pills at the ready.
Barry Gibb does a scary speech like a movie with trolls or armies in it, and then does an even scarier thing -- performing in a hall of mirrors where he's impersonating somebody impersonating Jimmy Fallon impersonating Barry Gibb -- in very tight pants. Ryan does some seriously worthless filler in the Farmer's Market, then calls it worthless filler: apparently, some common people like one person, some commoners like another contestant, some are undecided. Fascinating. Pink shows up for no damned reason whatsoever and gets her beer gut all over my beautiful life, vomits on herself, then masturbates to Bumfights.
Sanjaya, Syndrome and Phil will all be on the tour, but I still want to go this year. Pimpmercial is a Hard Day's Night homage; everybody on Earth looks good filmed in black and white, or running from tweener crowds. An endless Bee Gees medley showcases Blake's harmonies, Jordin's joie de vivre, Melinda's total lack of interest in the other Idols or the audience, and LaKisha's total 420 still happening. We see that they all had things happen to them and pictures were taken throughout their lives; then, they refuse to stop the group hug for Ryan to start killing them off one by one. This activates his serious OCD stagecraft thing and he almost kicks Jordin in the head, it's great. Jordin's safe, and Melinda's safe, and that's boring; Simon says LaKisha's going home, and then she does. Awesomely. Way to go, lady.
Blake grits his teeth inside a false smile; he's wearing a faux-tuxedo t-shirt, evoking something new but not trying too hard. It's not all that flattering. Melinda and Jordin are glowing, LaKisha might boot. Ryan's in gray-on-white with a matching tie; Bill Maher is having an acid flashback in the audience. This is American Idol. At first I thought LaKisha was getting a gimp eye or having a stroke or something, her inability to look at anything, but I realized soon enough that she was stoned off her ass. That's awesome. A bunch of people I don't know, some girl that looks like a Peldon sister or possible Casey from Laguna Beach, the judges sitting in random chairs pretending to be each other: Simon claps like a seal, Paula rubs her collarbones like they're nipples. Amazing. Ryan sticks his foot in it about how Simon's breasts are larger than Paula's, then backtracks and eats a bunch of shit, and then they all talk at length about how they want to fuck Jessica Alba, like the liars they are. It's weird. Miles to go before you sleep, Butterfly. Nigel and Ryan flirt cutely about how they're the only ones that know who's going home, and then Ryan and the judges stare at each other for an infinitely long time. Ryan tells Simon how wonderful he was last night; he was, he always is. More awkward silences and nobody knows how much he means it, and Ryan gets really sincere, like an Africa amount, staring down at him, there are nervous chuckles, and then as we're going to the recap package from last night Simon says quite clearly, mic still live: "What! I like him!"
Then there's some scary music like Lord Of The Rings and Barry Gibb sounding like that movie and talking about how the kids have to take a magical ring to the fires of Mordor or some shit, and then we watch Blake doing some vocal entendres, pissing off Simon, and then singing the best thing ever. LaKisha and Barry negotiated a working relationship, Simon retaliated by refusing to awkwardly kiss her some more. Her songs were okay, the second one was better. Oh, to have "Stayin' Alive" as your singout song. Jordin sang that we didn't know what it was like to love somebody, then rocked all over the damn place but the judges hated it. Melinda, we're told, was supposedly not that great the first time, but then she pandered egregiously in the second round in a totally adorable dress. Simon loved it because Melinda smells like so much money.
Ryan visits the LA Farmer's Market where he talks to bunch of women with their breasts all in different places. Nobody's opinions are that interesting, and Ryan basically force-feeds them to the people anyway. At one point -- this is the most awkward episode from start to finish in the history of this show -- he asks a lady, "How deep is your love?" in a strange voice, and just as the woman begins to be fully creeped out, he goes, "...For Jordin?" Nope, still creepy. Some other lady calls him "Brian" and there are little kids who give less than a single flying flip about American Idol, some people were not impressed with Blake, other people were. Blah blah. More fun is made of Paula's clapping style; a German lady loves LaKisha. The little kids find a way to care less: the little girl, when asked who should win, replies "The Lakers." I love that kid! Another old lady tells Ryan that he's adorable and she doesn't care what Simon says about him. There's a temporary hollowness in Ryan's brash exterior: he cares, even if the lady doesn't. It's all so worthless but Ryan fixes it: back onstage he fully goes, "You can tell we have a lot of hour to fill tonight." Straight-faced he says this. There were 45 million votes last night: glad they didn't come with money attached this week, or a bunch of people would die of AIDS, or something. And I think Pink is coming at some point.