auditions: simulblogging austin...

It's another simulblog, since the auditions thrill me almost as much as a root canal. And, as always, live blogging means typos, etc. And any pictures, links to videos, or anything else will be added later, as they become available.

This is American Idol. Or so says Ryan Seacrest. And we don't mess with Texas. Where we found Kelly Clarkson. And it's hot.

I hate it when cute guys named Julian do great splits, show great personality and have voices more sour than lemons. Go away Julian. Follow your dreams.

We get weird, follow by strange, followed by demented. And then we get fashion maven Paula Goodspeed, with a mouth of metal who destroys Tina Turner and is given free reign to get bleeped through her diatribe.

Could this show be more predictable?

Oh, lucky us. It's a black and white "Curse of the Co-eds" segment. Oh goody.

But hey! The undead is really dead when funeral director Jason Horn raises them up half nicely. Major embalming jokes ensue as he is handed his ticket to the next round.

Jazzy Cierra Johnson, who says she's seen it all earns the wrath of the Angels by destroying all illusions of Christmas carols. She's followed by tears and anger and tiny AI icons. And nobody cares.

Do people actually enjoy these episodes?

Allison Schoening proves that she's suffering a lack of oxygen, leftover from a rugged plane trip and is given a 30-minute reprieve to get her act together. We get treated to a bunch of goofy guys, struggling to eek out a couple of spoken syllables before Ricky Hayes actually sings in tune and gets a ticket.

Ashley Jackson, the "fit" model, is obviously a little too full of herself but impresses Randy by singing without opening her mouth. Well, whatever it takes, I suppose. RJ will be no doubt be finding the hot tub with Ashley if, that is, there is room for both of them and the world's largest ego. With any luck, both of them will hop on the bus going the opposite direction and save us from a return visit.

Get me out of audition hell!! Whew I feel better.

Allison is back! And she's sticking with "what she does best." Ouch. William Makar fills the quota for 16-year-old boys, getting thumbs up from Randy and Simon, who gives him the same sort of "I kinda like you" speech he gave crooner John Stevens two seasons ago. Something about that scares me.

And, once again, we're threatened by Tessie Mae Reid in another case of Idol Overkill the Promos. And once again I do not care if she's horrific. I do not care if she almost rips the door off the hotel room.

But she is. And she does.

Twelve people survive Austin, but at least we're given a glimpse of the light at the end of this audition tunnel, as auditions end Tuesday with the promise of the best talent in the country and our first stop in Hollywood.

Soon our long national nightmare will be over. And just beginning.


tag: american idol