American Idol: A Musings

Last night Brunette Roommate and I were uncomfortably sharing her TV, going back and forth between Biggest Loser (me) and American Idol (her). (We have high standards in our apartment.) It got tense at times. A scuffle or two might have broken out. The end result? I now have a black eye and have seen most of an episode of American Idol. I hear it's quite popular among the cool kids, and I also hear the tumbleweeds rustling across this here site, so I thought I'd expound on my impressions while watching this new cultural phenomenon.

Thought #1: Is Randy Jackson gay? This isn't a joke. I was serious when I asked BR, and I'm serious now.*

Thought #1.5: If he is not gay, does Randy Jackson realize that he says very gay things? Example: "I've gotta say, man, I've been impressed with all the guys today. You all really know how to blow. [Words I didn't hear because I was laughing too hard and exclaiming, "I was going to make a sex joke and then he did it for me!"] You just gotta push, you gotta stay in there." I missed the rest of what he said because I was busy miming penis/buttocks interactions with my hands and going, "Yeah, get in there! And then come back out! And go back in again!"

(To be fair, after I did that last part, BR turned to me and remarked that I really need to get laid. That is also possible.)

Thought #2: Why skinny jeans on guys? WHHHHYYYYYYY? Although I'll admit they led to unintentional hilarity when the gay guy who looks like Jessica Alba squeezed his buttcheeks with all his might and awkwardly tried to grind his hips. Even BR made fun of him for that.

Thought #3: Hair. Does not. Compute. (Times everyone.)

Thought #4: Do Simon and Paula always bicker like me and my sister on long road trips? When we were eight? Why does nobody smack them?**

Thought #5: Paula was funnier on her reality show that totally existed, I'm not making this up, but she still made an excellent contribution with her colors comment. If only she had started singing "Colors of the Wind"... That would've rocked.

Thought #Last: The stoner and the eight-year-old boy were adorable, although I'm a little concerned about child labor laws concerning the latter.

*I was not actually serious.
**Greek classics joke time! "Nobody is smacking me in the face! Nobody is killing me by force!"

Some people never learn

If you've read anything I've written, you probably know not to take anything I say or do seriously. Now, I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt and assuming you are not a gigantic moron. Apparently, my roommates do not deserve such strong faith.

First example:

Last Friday, I spent way too much time at work playing online Mafia, where people decide on who to kill during the day portions. I was about to be whacked, which pissed me off and made me paranoid about, for example, people washing their hands in the bathroom. (True story: I walked out of a stall and thought suspiciously, "She wasn't there when I came in, and I never heard a door open... HOW IS SHE HERE AND WHAT DOES SHE WANT FROM ME?") It also prevented me from getting much actual work done, which stressed me out even more. On the way home, I ran into issues with the subway, elevators, pedestrians, cars, flying space monkeys, etc. The point is, I got home incredibly tense and distracted.

Blond Roommate of course took this opportunity to start asking me about the TV repairman, and eventually I asked, "Sorry, can we talk about this later? I've just spent all day trying to keep people from killing me-"

She gasped and covered her mouth: "Oh my god, what? Why? Who's trying to kill you?"

"... in a game."

BR: "Ohhh. [Pause] I hate you."

And I thought I was paranoid.

Second example:

I went on an epic* adventure to BB&B on Saturday with Brunette Roommate. I pointed out special tape to keep rugs from sliding, and she wondered if it would be strong enough, considering the force with which our dogs run and slide and jump around and generally mess up anything nice. (Yes, my life is full of excitement. I don't know how I keep up, either.) Then this happened:

Me: Hm, good point. We could always Super Glue it down.
Her, snapping her head around: What?! Like I'm really gonna pay to replace our entire floors instead of dealing with one rug that won't...

The ellipsis indicate the point at which she noticed that I was laughing in her face. Loudly. I may have pointed. I mean, really. Super Glue?

*It wasn't actually epic. At all. I bought a broom. And not even the pretty giraffe-colored broom. Sad face...

What do you see as positive about toddler murder?*

I have a confession: every time I go to or hear about FreeRice.com, I think of the "Free Hat" episode of South Park. It's a little unsettling. But in a good way.

*It's easy?