American Idol
Ziggy Played Guitar

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Ziggy Played Guitar
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Big week, huh? First, Mario dropped out of the competition on Friday, amidst rumors of contract bullshit, fame-whoring, the ubiquitous Michael Jackson, and the excellent urban legend about him forcing Seacrest to masturbate in a bathroom. Then a similar rumor popped up about Bo -- the leaving the show one, I mean -- but immediately dropped like a lead zeppelin. Then Paula Abdul left the country to avoid a hit-and-run allegation. Then it was said that Bad Boy was going to sign Mario, but P. Diddy went on record as saying that he didn't know who the hell Mario Vazquez was, like he's got so much cred. Like he would never go near a reality competition show about musical performers.

It was at this point that the entire TWoP staff jumped to my aid, because nothing activates American Idol fans' secret craziness like a manufactured scandal, and I must give them a shout-out for this reason, particularly Miss Alli, and Sars, and LTG and Couch Baron. You are all talented, beautiful people and I love your recaps. I'm getting misty here. So then Mario took a trip to Courtney Town, all "I need my privacy" while booking himself on every talk show in existence, giving a different reason for leaving every time he left, not telling his mother what was really going on, and finally harassing the Simpson sisters and trying to commiserate with them about the vagaries of fame to the point where they had to kick him out of the VIP area. If this is really how fast the pop cycle is moving nowadays, we should see his left nipple in a man's mouth at the Burger King (such a quality restaurant, don't you agree?) by close of business Monday. And if he had a uterus, it would fall out by the next morning. Although honestly, he's less Love than Peldon, because there's no reason for us to care where his left nipple ends up, but he's just famous for being famous now, and for being an insane fame groupie. And I just heard five seconds ago that he's hired Clay's lawyer to get out of his AI contract, which sucks because it means Drudge was right, and I hate that.

I kind of want to involve myself in the diminishing returns, here. Like, Ashlee Simpson is only pretend-famous, so he's trying to ride her coattails to that, while she rides her sister to halfway-legit, which means if I start stalking Mario Vazquez, I'll be at "khaki" on the celebrity alert scale, which is two steps above "slightly famous on the internet," which is what I am now. Which is also, by the way, why I've started hanging out with Miss Alli, but that's just parallel development as part of my plan to be exactly as famous as Lou Diamond Phillips, no more, no less. This is also the reason I keep trying to start rap beefs with djb, since all I did was piss Pamie off when I tried talking shit about Perry Farrell. I've got a chart over my computer and everything, so don't be surprised when I start dropping names like "Krista Allen" and "Matt Drudge" into the recaps in weeks to come. It's all part of my design. Lou Diamond Phillips, you will be feasting on my wake in no time.

Ryan looks so tiny on that big old stage. He's wearing a lavender suit jacket and another weird t-shirt, also lavender, with wide-leg jeans and cute little Chucks. I know he's tiny, but damn. He really talks nutty tonight and it's not very interesting, so we'll gloss over a lot of it. It's just kind of crazy and boring and stream-of-consciousness obligatory shit. He calls the kids "the most famous faces" on our screens, and says he wants to see what they can do. I just realized last week was my last chance to call the Girl Pound "Suffragette City," which was my plan all along, and now I can never make that joke. But there's no more Dawg Pound either, for the same reason, so I'm just going to call that entire part of the stage Suffragette City from now on. And while we're at it, I'm calling the other corner of the stage, where Ryan Seacrest lives, and across the giant new Seal to which the contestants now must trudge after getting hated on by the judges, the Temple Grandin Area. Now that I've put names to places in the new set, I feel more at home there. How very Lacan-via-Riley Finn of me.

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American Idol




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