Dear Miss Carrie Underwood,
Seriously? That is what you’re wearing tonight? No, seriously? For real? Are you taking advice from Paula? Because she’s about one gin and oxycontin smoothie away from the nuthouse. So you should really get some help with that wardrobe. I’ll bet George Michael could help you.
P.S. The real George Michael, not that fake one that was there last night.
Last night they showed a couple of girls in the audience wearing “Team David” shirts. You tell me: Playing Both Sides or Not The Brightest Bulbs In The Chandelier?
As for the American Idol results, I think the right guy won. Little David has a lovely voice, but I can’t imagine actually buying anything he records. Or leaving the radio on when they play something he records. Or listening to a radio station that would actually play something he recorded. But to each his own. Mr. Archuleta, meet Mr. Aiken.
Giant Head David, however, I could actually listen to. But he creeps me out a little. He reminds me of someone I used to date. A guy who was a on and off boyfriend for years – on because I had deep feelings for him and had a great time with him. Off because the sexual attraction wasn’t all there and always felt a little creepy and just wrong. That’s how David Cook affects me – one minute I think, he’s kind of sexy, and the next, I throw up a little in my mouth and feel dirty and ashamed. But then I get over it because – let’s be honest – I went to college and I’m used to that by now.