Oh pardon me. Excuse me. I'm late. I wish I could claim I was stuck in traffic, but I wasn't. I was watching Tori and Dean: Home Sweet Hollywood. I don't know what it is about that show, but I. Can. Not. Turn. It. Off. Much to the chagrin of those around me. I never set out to watch it. It certainly isn't on my DVR. Yet when it pops up as I skim the channels, like a breadstick in fondue, I am stuck. I can't figure it out. I know it's crap. I know it is calcifying my brain. Yet I can't stop watching. Maybe it's due to my love of horses? Whatever it is, I think they should come up with a classification for it in the DSM-IV. Tori and Dean and Millionaire Matchmaker.
Speaking of brain-traumatizing television, here we are in Atlanta! Again! Now don't get me wrong, I heart this show, but occasionally I wonder if there is something more I could be doing with my life instead of watching the public humiliation of our first contestant. Meet Michelle Wallace. Ms. Wallace purports to be a talented singer. It is hard to believe her, though, because she has thoroughly undermined her credibility by choosing to wear pink and purple sparkly eyeshadow on national television. Although Ms. Wallace informs us that she is a banker, perhaps she was previously employed as the makeup artist for Jem and the Holograms? Go Synergy!
Sharon Osbourne (who has removed her shoes for the duration) asks Ms. Wallace how she is. Michelle Wallace is wonderful. The judges look skeptical. As the music swells, Ms. Wallace bossily orders everyone to their feet. She tells them to wave their hands. She claims the song is for everybody: Fathers, mothers, dog catchers, etc. She orders more people to stand up. She tells the judges to stand and wave. She is so busy looking into the audience for sitters that she neglects to see the giant set-up in the room. That's right, she is awful. Her first note into "All by Myself" and she is buzzed loudly. She is slightly rattled by it, musters, and keeps singing only to be buzzed by the remaining judges. She is slightly rattled by it, musters, and keeps singing only to finally unearth a shred of dignity and stop singing. The Hoff tells her that if she keeps singing she will end up by herself. Sharon asks her if she has ever recorded herself and listened. Ms. Wallace regrets to inform the judges that she has not. The judges order some introspection forthwith and Ms. Wallace leaves the stage. Her eyeshadow sparkles sadly as she hugs Jerry Springer backstage.