Susan asked in the comments about my audition story. Part I here and Part II here. Please forgive, I was in my three-year phase of never capitalizing, because I’m retarded. A little less so now. And to the drive-by who said this blog is lame with a capital L because I made fun of a little kid’s hair? I have two things to say to you: 1) Thanks so much! I’m glad I got the capital L instead of that lame-o lowercase l. 2) You missed the point. I was making fun of his dad until I decided I liked his dad. Maybe you should re-read. Either way, thanks for the comment!

K. So tonight they’re in Charleston, Suck Carolina. (I will hold an election grudge until there’s an actual conservative in the White House. A real one.) Oh, hey. Ry Ry just said “y’all” and put on some fake twang. Blergo, Seacrest. Oh no. He just asked if we could find the next Ruben here. Oh dear, I hope not. And LOL, Simon thinks they’re on the west coast.

Drama right away, because there’s a guy who would have been first to sing for the judges, and his wife’s water broke, so they were leaving for the hospital right then. He actually says that he hopes to get back in time to audition, but of course, the baby is the most important thing.

SARAHK: Hey, who was that guy I hated last year because he missed his baby’s birth to audition for Idol?
FRANK J.: I don’t remember his name, but you really held a grudge for that.
SARAHK: I think he made the top ten.
FRANK J.: Wasn’t it that Nosferatu guy?
SARAHK: Oh yeah! Pennywise. I think his name was Phil.

I’m over it now, in case you’re wondering. I don’t hate him anymore.

Raysharde Henderson is from Atlanta and has a giant afro. He’s unemployed and wants to win the job of American Idol today. He says “they” call him the black Clay Aiken. He thinks Clay is a great singer but he himself is very unique because he’s different from Clay. I see no obvious differences, based on appearances only, of course. He’s gonna sing “I Can’t Make You Love Me.” He’s very… um… I have no words, especially once he goes down on one knee. Simon says something like 1970s cruise ship cabaret, and Randy calls it very over-the-top. Three nos, and he accepts his fate with dignity.

DeAnna Prevatte is from Albemarle, North Carolina. My eyes just started rolling up into my head, and I have no idea why that hometown would cause such a visceral reaction. Good cow, she even talks like Kellie Pickler. Make it stop. “I’m hoping that American Idol will like me almost as good as Kellie Pickler. If I don’t sound any better than Kellie Pickler, I really don’t wohhna be he-yur.” I don’t want ya here either if you can’t sing any better than Kellie. Um. She’s just too bad to be true. She really likes Kellie’s song about the red high heels (that one makes me barf!), but she’s more likely to run ya down with a baseball bat than put on her red high heels, because she just cayn’t wawlk in high heels very good. I’m just paraphrasing (barely), peeps. She hates the Sunday crowd customers at her waitressing job, especially seyunce they got thuh awl you kin eat in thar, because those Sunday customers run the waitresses awl over the place and then leave like a dawler teeyup. The judges ask if she ever tells them they should be ashamed of themselves for that. No way! That wouldn’t be prufayshunull. Simon says he would tell them. “Yes, you woo-ud, and that’s why yur in the business that yur in and nawt waitrissin’.” Another reason he’s not waitressing? He’s a dude. She’s gonna sing “Fancy.” Oh, I absolutely love it when they sing songs about prostitution and their clothes practically fall off while they’re moving around. It so goes with the song! Oh, a bunch of skipping of words, and an inadvertant key change! Anyway, she’s no good. Simon says, “Well, you’re a little tiger, aren’t you, Deanna [pronounced Dee-na]?” “DeAnna. That’s why I spell my name with a capital A, just to eliminate the whole Dee-na. It’s Dee Anna.” Simon says she sings angrily and he doesn’t think she has a great voice. He likes the passion and the anger and the getting down on her knees. No from the judges. Simon also says that if he ever came in for Sunday lunch, he promises he wouldn’t dare order more than one helping. She’s not amused. Lighten up, Dee Anna.

Crystal Ortiz and Randy Stark met on the americanidol.com message boards. He lives in Abilene, TX, and she lives Raleigh. They’re an item. As an internet wife myself, I think that’s cute. Oh, he’s a GURU on the message boards! They first met right by that trashcan over there. There’s even a black-and-white dramatization. He sounds like a goat. She sounds fine at first, but she’s harmonizing, and yeah, she’s not so good either. No for both of them, and the judges keep telling them to think about the love, and Simon says they should get a room. When they leave, Simon comments that they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. It’s true, they were so cutely in love, even if they couldn’t sing so well.

Jeffery and Michelle Lampkin are a brother and sister duo Jeffrey looks like Ruben. He’s wearing his dog tags for Simon, because Simon has a military presence. They’re dueting on “I’m Your Angel.” They’re very good. She has no self-confidence, so she doesn’t sing loudly enough, and she’s overwhelmed by her brother’s strong voice. But she’s still good. Ooh, creepy little hand-holding and eye-gazing at the end. Dude, she’s your sister. Haha, Simon agrees with me, but he calls it “inappropriate” rather than creepy. Simon likes them both. Randy says yes to the brother, no to the sister. Pauler says yes to both. Simon agrees with Pauler but tells Jeffery he has to whip Michelle into shape before Hollywood, bring out her best vocals. They’re so happy. Simon is chiding Randy. “You cahn’t split those two off, Randy.” Okay, Jeffery and Michelle, I forgive the two of you for the South Carolina primary, because I like you. I do not forgive the rest of the state.

Yay! New House next week.

Meanwhile the parents-to-be have a camera with them, and they’re lost on the way to the hospital.

And the spares sing “Before He Cheats.”

Now the captain of the Knoxville Catholic High School dance team is showcased. She teaches kids in school about abstinence. I like her already. She’s Amy Catherine Flynn. “Amy, Amy Catherine, AC, whatevs.” (Oh, Tee Tee, I soooo thought of you when she said whatevs.) Randy says that Simon needs the abstinence teaching. She gives him a speech. She’s preciously pretty. She has a nice, clean voice, and she doesn’t over-sing. She gets a little airy near the top of her range, so she should stick with lower songs or practice those high-ish notes. But everyone knows AI fans just don’t vote so much for the altos, so stronger higher notes are a better bet. Pauler loves her and wants to have her babies (which would totally be against AC Whatevs’s abstinence policy). Simon goes on and on about how annoying she is and how a lot of America will find her annoying. Yes from Simon. Randy says yes, and it’s a Golden Ticket. Simon also tells her to stay away from Seacrest. Hahaha. Yes, he might steal your nail polish.

Parents-to-be are at the hospital, she’s in labor, etc.

London Weidberg is next, and she grew up right on the beach in a luxurious house in Charleston. Dad died three years ago of cancer. So now she’s following her dreams. Simon loves her name. She’s very pretty. Singing “Good Morning Heartache.” Pretty voice. She does very annoying things with her hands. Simon says there are lots of girls like her all over the country. Pauler says yes. Randy says yes. Simon doesn’t seem crazy about the idea, but what can he do? She’s off to Hollywood.

Day Two.

The judges were underwhelmed by South Carolina (me too!) on Day One, so they’re really hoping for better with Day Two. Um, here’s a quote for you: “It hasn’t been great yet, Charleston, but uh… I know the South’s gonna represent, ’cause I keep saying the South’s gonna rise again. You know what I’m sayin’.” He does get that slavery oppressed black people, right? I don’t wanna be racist by pointing it out, though.

Lyndsey Goodman is an Air Force pilot. She flies the C-17s. Big suckers. She joined the Air Force to follow in her dad’s footsteps. She is exotically pretty. Bluesy. “Black Velvet.” She can sing, but her voice is shaking like crazy from nerves. Simon thinks she’s a very good cabaret singer, not a good performance artist. It’s a no. Huh.

Aretha Codner is singing “I Have Nothing.” She says she is as good as all the other Idols to date. She specifically names Fantasia. And right off the bat, she forgets the words. And changes keys several times, and it should just stop now. She insists to Simon that she stops crowds walking by when she’s singing. She keeps going on about how awesome her voice is, and the judges are right on this one. It’s a no.

The next guy, I didn’t get his name and just don’t feel like rewinding to give him his half a second on this blog. The judges say he’s bad, and he says he’s good. Then Joshua (they keep saying it) says that American Idol is fixed and rigged. “It’s been all over the news that South Carolina sucks.” Preeeeeach! And just in case y’all are looking for talent, he is Josh Bolson. You give him a call.

LOL. A cacophony of nos from They Might Be Giants as the spares get told no.

Oliver Highman is the new dad. Emma Grace is his new baby. His wife is there at his audition with him. The day after she gave birth? Dude. He sings, and his vibrato is bad. And then the falsetto… But yo, he’s my American Idol because he chose the birth of his baby over Idol. It’s a no. They meet the baby. As the happy family leaves, Pauler: “I want to change my mind.”

And that’s when the DVR cut off. I hope nothing exciting happened after!