What is Up With Ellen?
The other night I watched a full hour of American Idol. I've always considered it a karaoke contest and have constantly whined that we could be watching an hour of real singers instead. Or we could be learning about something, or reading something, or figuring out how to vote, or even watching Judge Judy.
But I shut my mouth and tried to judge the talent. Here are a few of my observations, and perhaps a little insight into why I can't watch the show on a regular basis:
1). I'm not invested in these people. I don't care if they entered the contest because they were molested by their Uncle and are searching for validation. I especially don't care if they start crying - they start the waterworks, I head to another room. I just want to hear them sing. We all have problems.
2). When they are voted off, they vow to one day become a star and get back at Simon. I hate this too - they aren't coming back - that's it - go bag groceries.
3). Randy Jackson. I dislike Randy Jackson, dog, 100 million percent. He says the same thing every time but changes the percent he either liked or disliked something. Stupid.
4). What's that girl's name? Cara? I hate her too. She sits there and dances as if her head is completely empty - and if Randy says 100 million percent - she chimes in with 100 billion percent. Moron.
5). Ryan Seacrest. Another performer that makes me cringe. He tries to be funny and isn't. He over-pronounces every single word - where's Dick Clark? Sick or not, I'd rather hear him.
6). Finally - we get to the real star of my horror show - freaking Ellen. Tell me(s)he isn't disturbing looking. First off, I dress better than her - and I can't say that about six other people in the world.
Plus, she looks like a man, walks like a man, talks like a man, dates like a man, but she wears make-up and eye liner. What's up with that? Make up your mind, it looks out of whack.
She isn't funny, doesn't know anything about music, and looks even goofier when she nods and bobs her disturbing head. Oh yeah, I have better hair then her too - which again, isn't my strong suit. Plus when they show her profile her crooked nose makes her look like the wicked witch of the West.
Yet I don't want to be mean here. She deserves the wheelbarrow full of money they pay her to sit there and aggravate me. Someone must love her.
But being a good dude, I didn't mock the performers as I've done in years past. In fact, a couple of them could actually sing, but I wouldn't memorize their names, or God help me, call to vote for them. In fact, I most likely will not watch again.
"Wasn't there anything you liked about it?" Kathy asked.
"Simon," I said. "He's the only on with any sense on the entire show."
No wonder he's leaving.
Those other people are enough to drive you nuts.
But I shut my mouth and tried to judge the talent. Here are a few of my observations, and perhaps a little insight into why I can't watch the show on a regular basis:
1). I'm not invested in these people. I don't care if they entered the contest because they were molested by their Uncle and are searching for validation. I especially don't care if they start crying - they start the waterworks, I head to another room. I just want to hear them sing. We all have problems.
2). When they are voted off, they vow to one day become a star and get back at Simon. I hate this too - they aren't coming back - that's it - go bag groceries.
3). Randy Jackson. I dislike Randy Jackson, dog, 100 million percent. He says the same thing every time but changes the percent he either liked or disliked something. Stupid.
4). What's that girl's name? Cara? I hate her too. She sits there and dances as if her head is completely empty - and if Randy says 100 million percent - she chimes in with 100 billion percent. Moron.
5). Ryan Seacrest. Another performer that makes me cringe. He tries to be funny and isn't. He over-pronounces every single word - where's Dick Clark? Sick or not, I'd rather hear him.
6). Finally - we get to the real star of my horror show - freaking Ellen. Tell me(s)he isn't disturbing looking. First off, I dress better than her - and I can't say that about six other people in the world.
Plus, she looks like a man, walks like a man, talks like a man, dates like a man, but she wears make-up and eye liner. What's up with that? Make up your mind, it looks out of whack.
She isn't funny, doesn't know anything about music, and looks even goofier when she nods and bobs her disturbing head. Oh yeah, I have better hair then her too - which again, isn't my strong suit. Plus when they show her profile her crooked nose makes her look like the wicked witch of the West.
Yet I don't want to be mean here. She deserves the wheelbarrow full of money they pay her to sit there and aggravate me. Someone must love her.
But being a good dude, I didn't mock the performers as I've done in years past. In fact, a couple of them could actually sing, but I wouldn't memorize their names, or God help me, call to vote for them. In fact, I most likely will not watch again.
"Wasn't there anything you liked about it?" Kathy asked.
"Simon," I said. "He's the only on with any sense on the entire show."
No wonder he's leaving.
Those other people are enough to drive you nuts.
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