We're live, for some reason. Ryan seems to think it's a big deal, even though his vamps tend to get wobbly when we're live for too long a stretch (as we shall see). He also seems to think that, given Kara's presence, the judges' table is starting to resemble The View, which brings to mind nothing so much as the ass-horrible concept of Elisabeth Hasselbeck and Randy Jackson having a conversation. Can you imagine? That's like your ears' version of Hellraiser. "Yo well I don't think so much as dawg it was a'ight." "I don't how you can say that because marriage and thing." "That's pitchy for me I don't know just sharp in places you know just." "I just think God and babies, also my sweater."
And honestly, having seen the whole thing at this point, damn. I think I would actually rather watch that. What a listless, pointless, meaningless, toothless, feckless, d*ckless, thoughtless, unprofessional piece of crap this episode is. From the production -- two hours of bumped cameras, f*cked mics, random Spaghetti Cat phantom stills, Randy Jackson attempting to both think and speak in full sentences for the first time in his goddamn life, and spazzy contestants stepping all over my Ryan's lines with weird double entendres, it was pretty much like being on the receiving end of a two-hour visit from Alex and the Droogs. And not in the fun way.
Continue reading this entry on Television Without Pity.