DREAD CONTESTANT ROBERTS: Why loose your venom on me?
SARAHK: Because Fred stopped running for president today, which means four more years of big government suck.

They’re in San Diego this week, and parts of the promo look like they’re straight out of CSI: Horatio. BTW, wow, how freakin’ NUTS did his son’s mother turn out to be? Dude.

I take no prisoners tonight. If I have to live in socialist hell for the next four years, I’m at least going to make fun of other people along the way. Assuming the “Fairness” Doctrine doesn’t shut down my blog.

Tetiana Ostapowych is first. I’m guessing Russian. Anyway, she’s from Venice (California), and she’s singing “Someone to Watch Over Me.” Doesn’t she know that song is supposed to be pure and innocent? She’s trying to sound like Bonnie Raitt, and it’s the wrong song for that. I agree with Simon, she’s not as good as she thinks she is, and she’s a little obnoxious. They give her three yeses anyway. Eh.

Perrie Cataldo is next, and he’s from Arizona. He’s a single dad and has a kid named Evian who looks like a little Mexican gangster. What? He does! But I actually thought he was a girl at first, and then when Perrie kept saying “he,” I realized he was talking about the little girl. Evian. You know, my brother almost allowed his baby’s momma to name their son Leland until my brother’s friend told him that Leland sounds like the name of a child molester. Thank goodness, because we were about to stage an intervention. Crisis averted. Hey, Perrie? It’s called a hair cut. They’re like eight bucks, probably cheaper for cute little kids. Oh, but dang, now I feel like a wicked witch. Evian’s mother is dead from being in the wrong place at the wrong time with the wrong people. And now I feel like a giant tool for making fun of his name. It’s not the kid’s fault that his parents named him after bottled water. He’s just a cute (and very sweet) little boy who needs a hair cut. So Evian, I’m sorry I made fun of you. Really I’m just making fun of your dad (who does seem to be a really good dad). Some full disclosure here: my nephew’s mother gave him a mohawk right after his first birthday. But I made fun of that, too. Hopefully Perrie will make it to the top ten, so he can afford to take Evian to the barber shop. Other than that, he’s precious. Oh wait, yeah, this is about dad’s audition. Okay, so after the sappy lovefest, Perrie is going to sing “I’ll Make Love to You” by Boyz II Men. He has a very good voice. And wouldn’t you know, I really like him, he seems like a good guy. And that little ponytailed boy is just so cute. “My poppy’s going to Hollywood.” That kid’s a little secret weapon.

Michael Johns is originally from Australia but has been in L.A. since he was 18. He’s singing something by Otis Redding. Okay. Problem with this guy? I can’t tell where the beat of the song is. I know it’s easier when there’s music, but at the very least, a contestant should be able to keep some kind of rhythm within the song. Heck, snap your fingers or tap your toes if you must, but don’t just cut out every rest you get to so that I can’t tell if you’re completing a phrase or halfway through your next one. And if you can’t at least keep rhythm, don’t sharp up to another key right in the middle where it’s obviously not intentional. All that said, he’s cute, has that star quality about him, and if someone will agree to spring for a metronome, I’ll say he can pass. His voice is nice anyway. Judges think he’s great and call him a white soul singer. He’s through to Hollywood. So far, it’s three for three.

And now a goon named Marat Hayrapetyan from Sherman Oaks is wearing a fluffy girl’s shirt and singing poorly. Add some front ruffles to that shirt, and he’ll be yelling, “I don’t wanna be a pirate!” Shoot, maybe he *does*. Simon’s mouth is agape. Still not used to the producers putting crappy singers through, Simon?

More of the same with the next couple of singers.

Valerie Reyes is after the craptacular break. She says that when people hear her singing down the hall, they ask her if she was playing Mariah Carey. Which means there’s a 50/50 chance she’s teh total suck. Oh my. She sings a few notes well, and then she suddenly sounds like a boy going through puberty. This continues throughout the song: good, puberty, good, puberty, puberty, and then suddenly a pubescent boy having a nightmare. Simon says she sounds like a Mariah Carey CD left out in the sun for a year. Mr. Science over here on my left says that it takes an analog recording to stretch out the notes like that, and a digital recording won’t do the same. Isn’t everybody a know-it-all? At least everyone I sleep with is. Okay, the cats aren’t. They really don’t say much. So it was terrible. Randy tells her she should stop trying to sing like other people and she might have a shot at being a decent singer. Simon says it’s about a 1 in 1,000,000,000 chance. She’s at least self-aware, though: “Oh [blasphemy]! Now I’m gonna be on the rejects!” Yep.

Hey, Gardasil chicks. I want you to all be one less girl on my TV. Sell your side effects somewhere else.

Gimmicks next. Blah. There’s a mime performing with a singer. Next!

Christopher Baker and Monique Gibson. They came together, and that’s the gimmick. Monique looks like she has a giant silver zit above the corner of her lip. I think it’s a face stud or something, but really it screams, “They told me they was filling a cavity, but I woke up, and the filling was on the outside of my mouth! That’s the last time I use 555-TOOF to find a dentist!” She’s awful, and she won’t listen to the judges, who keep saying the same thing. Oh, and now here come the waterworks. So much for grace. She’s insisting she can sing. The severe goat vibrato and cracky voice tell me she’s wrong. And then Christopher is singing, and as Frank says, “He’s just regular bad. Usually they’re either really good or really bad. How’d that guy get in there?” It’s the gimmick. The fact that they came together is the gimmick. And now he’s singing again. Oh, and he’s getting worse right in front of our eyes! Exponentially, really. And Simon tells him he’s awful. So he says he respects Simon’s opinion, and therefore, he is going to sing in a lower key this time. And he sings some more. And some more. And the judges are begging him to stop, and finally the bouncers come over to eject him from Club Tone Def. And it cracks me UP, because one of the bouncers is trying so hard not to crack up, that’s how bad it is. Outside the room, the hatefest has begun, and just make. it. stop.

Samantha Musa is up next. Her sister is with her, and sis throws a paper airplane into the room when Samantha goes in. They invite her in. On the airplane (which doesn’t fly well) is a note to Simon, which he reads aloud with sis standing there. “Dear Simon, please let me in. Please please please. You’re on my list of who I want to meet. Along with Oprah and Oh’-bu-maaah.” Hahahahahahaha. That’s supposed to be Obama, but Simon’s British, you see. And that’s how I’m going to pronounce his name for the rest of the election cycle. Sis comes and sits on Simon’s lap for the audition. Ooh, she’s great. Lovely voice. Too much acrobatics, but it actually sounds natural rather than forced. I have to say it, because you’re all thinking it: she needs a little more eyebrow work. She obviously waxes, she just needs to not wax so angularly. But I really shouldn’t say anything. God blessed me with perfect eyebrows that I’ve never had to wax or even pluck. It’s like a tiny-nosed girl mentioning someone’s large schnoz. Four yeses. Simon loves this country.

Day Two.

Blake Boshnack is next. He looks most familiar. Ah. This is his eleventh time to try out for American Idol. He was last year’s Statue of Liberty. Oh dear. Mom doesn’t know if it’s a bigger dream for Blake or for mom. *sigh* Actually, his voice has a really nice quality to it, but he’s trying to make “Stand By Me” his own, and by his own, I mean he sings some of the right notes and makes up his own for other notes. It doesn’t sound bad, though; he’s on-key. All the judges say no. That surprises me a bit. I guess he’s the Lucci of Idol.

More spares.

And now Sarah Long. Oh, just wow. Randy asks if she’s ever heard of a guy named William Hung. “They compared me to William Hung. Which is like the worst insult ever.” Sweetie, that was a compliment. Watch it back on the TV.

Alberto Hurtado from Chula Vista is up next. Singing is the ultimate revealing of his soul. He likes flowers. His imagination inspires him, and he lives there. He has a Barbie on a stick, and he’s spinning her around to make her skirt twirl. “Its the paso doble.” He has the world’s biggest American Idol fan (an actual fan labeled “A big American Idol fan”). He has a miniature version which he later gives to Pauler and makes Simon and Randy envious. He’s written his own song, but before he can start singing, he has to fix his hair, do some katas, etc. He’s singing about tragedy and depressing Simon with the gloomy story of his life, in verse. There are interruptions and airy hair-fixings and Simon begging Alberto to skip to the supposedly happy ending. It’s about spreading your wings. Remember last week when I said “We’re Brothers Forever” will be the first single by this year’s winner? It might be Alberto’s song. Anyway, he’s not very good, and he’s timid, and it’s painful, and he snips that Simon keeps interrupting him.

Oh man. Heath Ledger is dead. It’s so tragic and just… well, awful. Anyway, funny story about that: the local news came in just now with a news brief to tell us that Heath Ledger is dead, and they’ll have more of the story at ten. But the girl giving the news brief, her microphone was apparently set to “cathedral echo,” and so it sounded like. “Actor (actor actor) Heath Ledger is dead (dead dead). More on the story (story story) at ten (ten ten).” Dude, we’ll believe you whether you echo or not. It went on for the whole commercial, and suddenly Frank and I both started giggling, obviously at the commercial, not the news contained within. Then I accused Frank of laughing at the news, and then we laughed at each other, and you had to be there, I guess. I’m retarded, and I apologize.

After the break, more spares. Some guy named Aaron is begging (in song) for us to leave him alone. Paula wants ten seconds of something else. My word. Leave my ears alone. Please.

David Archuleta, 16, is next, and he has come back from a paralyzed vocal chord. He’s recovered a lot, so now he’s on AI to sing. He’s better now. He’s singing “Waiting on the World to Change,” which is a very stupid John Mayer song. Randy is singing the echoes for him. I actually like his voice a lot. I might even love it. Maybe I want to marry it! Simon thinks it was a great song choice. Other than the words, I agree. Randy says yes. Pauler, who’s had lots of vodka by now, says she just wants to squish him. She makes hugging, squishing motions. Simon says, “Ok, that’s a no from Pauler. It’s a yes from me. Two yeses!” I always crack up when he does that. Anyway, three yeses, and he’s through.

Last is Carly Smithson. Originally from Ireland and been in America for two years. She and her husband own a tattoo parlor. He’s tattooed all over, even all over his face. She’s pretty tattooed herself. She’s very pretty and should wear less foundation on her face. Anyway, she auditioned in Vegas in season five (one year after *I* auditioned in Vegas), and she made it through to Hollywood. The next day, she got a call, because she had been waiting on her visa to come through, and it didn’t come through in time. So she was disqualified and devastated. She’s singing “I’m Every Woman.” Waaaaaay too much of the vocal acrobatics, and waaaaay too much making the song her own. Simon says it wasn’t as good as two years ago. Randy and Pauler say yes, and Simon does too. She’s got the Golden Ticket again. She tells Ryan it took a long time to recover from the last time when she was disqualified. She practically has a sobbing happiness breakdown with the after-camera. I like her and hope she does well. I also hope she cuts the crap and just sings. Please.

I know I sound like a broken reh-kooord, but seriously, girls. Just SING. Do it well, but just SING.

LOL. Tomorrow night is South Carolina. Tomorrow night this (SRM) is Sparta. What’s funny is that one of the contestants in the preview says, “It’s been on every news station that South Carolina sucks.” Funny, I thought the auditions were way before the primaries!

More American Idol links at sirlinksalot.net.