Meh. I think I am getting too old for this show. Or it is getting old. I did not get behind any one performer at all this season. But, as usual, there was a popular one who did nothing for me: Willie Spence. I don’t know why I did not like him because I am neither racist nor homophobic, and I am most certainly not sizeist.
And do you remember last year I wondered how much further
some contestants might have advanced if they had gotten the chance to perform under
normal circumstances, with access to wardrobe and make-up and a live band,
instead of their mum doing their hair before they sang in the garage? Well, I
guess the producers thought that too when they brought back some contestants
from last year. I don’t have an issue with them doing that, I just think they should
have brought them back earlier, say during Hollywood Week, to make it all a
little more equitable with this year’s batch.
And Paula Abdul’s stint made it glaringly obvious that there
needs to be at least one train wreck of a judge to make it interesting. Those
three are so bland and nice and… sober.
And I still hate Bobby Bones.
And I predicted Chayce’s win months ago. Yes, I know some
of you might think I am just staying that but for once, I have proof. I sent
myself an email and I had planned to place some sort of pic of it here but I
can’t get it to look right, it is tiny, so you will just have to take my word for it.
And I miss Brian Dunkleman.
Ha! I wondered if you were still watching this! But of course you were.
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