Don't Cry For Me, American Idol

Here we go again.

I am SOOOOOO over the waterworks on American Idol this season. The second Season 7 Results Show was, like the week before it, full of tears...and I just don't get it. Ya'll knew when you signed on (I'm talking to you, Idol contestants, and yes, I just said "ya'll") that being voted off was a possibility...nay, a probability. And yet each week you cant seem to control the emotions when one of your castmates is given the boot. Some of the tears seemed genuine (i.e. Opie Archuleta practically sobbing over the vote-off of one-earring-wearing Alexandrea) but some seemed...forced. Look, no one is going to vote for you next week just cus you appeared to be broken-hearted over a "friend" being given the adios. In fact, not only will that NOT make me vote for you, it will cause me to make fun of you mercilessly to all of America...in fact, all of the world *insert egomanical evil laugh here*!! So, cut it out, kids. No one expects you to have a wide range of emotions. We get that you're hoping for success based on good looks and marginal talent. As this is America (actually, its LA, even better!) we dont expect more than trendy outfits and synthesizer-heavy pop anthems from you...we're perfectly happy to vote you to the finals based on nothing more than which of you is cuter. (I can see it now, readers shaking their heads and saying to their computer screens "nuh-uh! I vote based on talent! I do, I do!". Save it for Oprah, you liars!)

Anyhoo, we said goodbye to Alexandrea, Jason, Alaina, and Robbie (who I always thought was really cute but - according to sources close to me and with apparently better taste than mine - he is not, in fact, attractive. Who knew?!) Next week, in addition to saying goodbye to more contestants, I hope we can also say goodbye to the HORRIBLE group songs we are usually subjected to at the beginning of each results show. They make my stomach churn in an accidentally-seeing-Paris-Hilton's-lady-bits-while-innocently-surfing-the-Internet sorta way. Not good.

Speaking of innapropriately flashing one's lady bits, its Friday night and I'm sitting at home writing when I SHOULD be out kicking up my heels. So I'm off to see what trouble I can get myself into. And, I promise that if one of my girlfriends gets voted out of whatever bar we end up going to, I will NOT subect the fellow patrons to fake, overdone tears. Take that, Idol crybabies! (Man, I love this job....)

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Don't Cry For Me, American Idol

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