Duke Of Web

What should have been the funniest train wreck of the season was actually not bad. The contestants were forced to choose from the repertoire of unlikely mentor Dolly Parton which should have made for some extremely uncomfortable moments, like David Archuletta singing Parton’s 1980 smash hit 9 to 5. But alas, they all did pretty well. However it was funny for other reasons.

Ramiele Malubay continues to be incredibly short. Despite being only 5′ tall, Dolly was tall enough that Ramiele could motorboat her enormous country bumpkins standing fulling erect. If American Idol doesn’t work out she can always work as a hand puppet.

After being praised for his unique and innovative version of Michael Jackson’s Billie Jean last week, David Cook was busted for lifting it from former Soundgarden front man Chris Cornell. I guess he didn’t learn from the debacle a few seasons ago when Chris Daughtry was praised and then subsequently spanked for his interpretation of a Johnny Cash tune, which actually wasn’t his interpretation at all (Live recorded it in 2001). In an interview on Billboard.com, Cornell admits of the Cook rendition “he sang it great, but it was literally a note-for-note take on what I came up with.” Still, Cook continues to deliver every week. It sucks to like him because he reminds me of every arrogant dickhead I encountered in highschool, but it’s hard to argue the guy has talent. In breaking news, Cook was rushed to the hospital Tuesday after experiencing heart palpitations and high blood pressure. Probably due to stress incurred from confusing gaydar signals from Randy.

Ryan Seacrest rushed through the entire show at breakneck speed, necessary to shoehorn all performances into an hour time slot. The best part of a shorter show was not being subjected to that annoying Ford Focus commercial 13 times. “You buy the gas, I’ll buy the food. Heh heh.”

The titan American Idol continues to suck the life out of America every Tuesday, but at least it’s getting shorter as more contestants return home to mass fanfare and car wash openings. Ryan Seacrest, the architect of clever catchphrase “Seacrest…out!” has penned a new opener that is possibly even more annoying.

“This……..(dramatic pause)……………is American Idol………”

Here is our breakdown of last night’s show, by contestant.

Ramiele Malubay: I cringed in discomfort as she stumbled through parts of her performance. She just wasn’t on it. Points though for wearing shorts like the Von Trapp kids in The Sound Of Music, and deliciously wet lip gloss that conjured up thoughts of a dark alley in Bangkok.

Jason Castro: Decent performance. Although the “vulnerable warble” gets a bit old, he’s pretty consistent from week to week and has a cool vibe. Especially entertaining were his excruciating facial contortions, which looked as if he were crapping an entire pineapple. His family is Columbian, so he can always fall back on cocaine trafficking should his music career go nowhere.

Syesha Mercado: Right off the top she scores points for A) looking like sexy jezebel Thandie Newton, and B) because her Dad looks like Barrack Obama. She also delivered a great performance which could have been greatly enhanced by the absence of a shirt. Just my opinion.

David Cooke: We’re usually pretty harsh on this imperious killjoy who’s single-handedly trying to bring back the soul patch. But the dude can sing, even with an extraordinarily large cranium. Unfortunately for him, the singer for Nickelback already has the market cornered for gravely, angst-ridden top-40 butt rock.

Brooke White: More of the same. Good pianist. Still want to be behind her in yoga class when she does the cat stretch. And her Dad looks like Ed Harris.

David Archuleta: Less rapid-tongue-movement this week. The kid is good, but it’s hard to envision him anywhere except waving his hands atop a Disney parade float lip-syncing A Whole New World. Peter Jackson should cast him in The Hobbit.

Michael Johns: What is it with Australian dudes having two first names? He went back to what he does best this week, delivering impassioned yet uneventful productions from the Queen catalog. Simon once again sang his praises in his arbitrary, nonsensical style.

Kristy Lee Cook: She was signed to MCA records long before Idol. But who cares. More importantly, we found this hot pic of her straddling a horse.

Carly Smithson: She won’t make the top 5 but Steve Wynn will probably contract her to play a shitty Vegas showroom for 2 years. We especially enjoyed when the camera panned to her tattoo-faced husband who looked like he wanted to stab Simon through the heart with a screwdriver.

Chikezie: We still maintain he could star as Isaac The Bartender in a Love Boat remake, and sounds like Luther Vandross after the stroke.

Never before has someone capitalized on their 15 minutes like American Idol whipping boy and Hindi pimp Sanjaya Malakar. Apparently he was important enough to invite to the recent White House Correspondence Dinner. I guess Todd Bridges couldn’t make it. Here he is with his patented shit-eating grin cozying up to MILF’s Valeri Bertinelli and Teri Hatcher, whom he may have tag-teamed in the Lincoln suite if his maniacal smile is any indication. Is it just me, or does Valery Bertinelli look like she swan dove off the Nutrisystem wagon and ingested a small Korean child? It’s great to see the chiclet-toothed muppet flipping the bird to legions of haters by hobnobbing with a steady stream of Hollywood tail. The only explanation for that insane grin is that he’s hung like a baby’s arm. Cosmic justice would then be served. We like Sanjaya, but realistically his only shot of holding onto fame is to get cast as Mowgli in The Jungle Book on Broadway, opposite Rosie O’Donnell’s Balou.

Skunk-top rock powerhouse biker chick Amanda Overmyer has been cut. The portly curmudgeon who looks like Ann Wilson 60 pounds ago took it like a champ, probably relieved she wouldn’t be subjected to any more choreographed chorus-style Beatles tunes where she is forced to wave her hands in perfect unison with the other hapless contestants. If she’d step beyond her comfort zone and experiment with other genres she’d be well-suited to step into the niche vacated by Linda Perry when she stopped performing in favor of producing. Leave it to America to whitewash anything interesting or different.

Meanwhile, smug butt-rocker David Cook conjured up Peter Frampton by using a vocoder during his performance. He sucked at it, both literally and figuratively. His hair was, once again, perfectly messy with bangs carefully combed downward to conceal a quickly receding hairline.

A baked Jason Castro turned in an interesting performance as a latin dude with dreads singing in French. At the right angle he looks like Julia Roberts after 6 months of pushing a shopping cart around Haight-Ashbury.

David Archuleta, looking like a young and dapper Andrew Lloyd Weber, redeemed himself by remembering his lyrics. We continue to be amazed at his rapid-fire tongue movement. He must have really dry lips. Like a gecko engulfing a grasshopper, it almost requires a stop-motion camera to witness.

The gay stripper has been cut. In a shocking turn of events, David Hernandez was given the boot Wednesday night after America voted to end the torture perpetrated week after week by the twitchy, annoying goat-boy. After being cut, Hernandez offered this gem of wisdom:

“Things happen for a reason. This isn’t it for me. You’ll see me at the top.”

Actually he’s right. Things do happen for a reason. And that reason is that Hernandez sucks. We are more likely to see him as a top rather than at the top.

Weekly Synopsis:

The country girl Christy Lee Cook is getting hotter week by week, surely starving herself into an anorexic stupor as she is immersed in the Hollywood lifestyle. We can only hope some scandalous photos surface soon. Please though, no more Chipmunks-inspired Beetles songs.

David Archuleta almost screwed his chance to be the next Rick Astley by forgetting his lyrics. And who else has noticed his bizarre snake-like rapid tongue movement.

David Cook continues to delight with his pompous brand of grandstanding emo rock and gay camera mugging.

Brooke White, while not a spectacular performer, continues to inspire fantasies as the girl who works at Starbucks you secretly want to nail.

Amanda Overmyer still sounds like she just ate an entire carton of cigarettes. I pray that in coming weeks she is forced to pick from the Duran Duran catalog in yet another themed show.

The Dreadlock Kid was pretty good.  He appears perpetually stoned, which probably helps curve his overwhelming desire to punch Paula Abdul in the head.