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I was bamboozled.  I stupidly thought that this was the final bad singing episode.  But oh no.  We have two more crappy hours with the New York, Puerto Rico double dip tomorrow.  Eegads.  
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We start this show off with a Girls Gone Wild Drew Carey looking guy who flashes his saggy man-boobs.  Too bad we didn't get to hear him sing.  But 5 seconds of GGW Drew already makes tonight more entertaining than the terrible Jacksonville show.  Then again, it's like saying stepping in dry dog crap is so much better than stepping in fresh dog crap.  It's still shades of crap.

We open up the Salt Lake City auditions with Paula telling us that this is the city where High School Musical is filmed. Wow, what an accomplishment. It’s also the home of the Osmond family. And guess what? Randomly, an Osmond decides to try out for Idol. What a coincidence! David Osmond, son of Alan, nephew of Donny and Marie, talks about his plantiness, but then switches it up to add in his sob story about having MS and previously being wheelchair bound. Didn’t see that curveball coming. But when he sings “Something Within Me”, he’s definitely an Osmond, cheese and all. The melisma is turned up to Von levels and his voice is quite grating, probably because it’s so cheesy. Get it? Cheese grating? See, I pulled an Osmond style joke. Kill me now. The judges all don’t know about him. Kara says that when he adds too many runs to his song, it doesn’t tell us what kind of artist he’ll be. Here’s a hint, Kara. He’s an Osmond. And as if his audition wasn’t already a waste of time, he pulls the “I didn’t get a ticket… oh yes I did” fake out.

This was the worst Episode of Idol Ever and not in a good way.

Well, this season has hit a new low.  Not in a train wreck exciting blood and gore way.  Or even in a horrible singing, making fun of the handicapped way either.  We've hit the nadir of this season and possibly the worst episode in 8 years of Idol, including Beatles Week Part Deux from last year.  And THAT one was terrible.

Well, I hoped that this episode would be good. But of course, I was foolish. This show is never good. And the Jacksonville auditions were probably the worst yet. Only one person really entertained me. The rest were too busy reading the producers’ scripts about how Jacksonville was named after Randy Jackson. Seriously? That’s the best line the show could come up with? I don’t think I can do this anymore. I guess I’ll have to wait anxiously for the return of VFTW Queen Von Smith and his specrapular melisma. Because this episode was so bad, I will cut off my commentary on contestants when I get bored of them.

Welcome to the final installment of the Good Music Corner's series on the stereotypes that should populate the cast of American Idol.  Last but not least: manic pixie dream girls!  Instead of the interchangeable blondes that currently populate Idol, why not a few interchangeable pixies?  These muses refuse to conform to the status quo and would keep us entertained with their wacky shenanigans week after week.

The manic pixie is Natalie Portman in Garden State, Kirsten Dunst in Elizabethtown, and any other artsy, kooky girl who comes along to zap some lovelorn loser out of his gray lifeless funk.  Manic pixies are childlike, free-spirited and so adorable you either want to pinch their Lolita cheeks or strangle them.  On the upside, the music world's manic pixies tend to record quirky, arthouse tunes with imaginative lyrics about discovering life's eccentricities. 

It's clear after the Louisville Kentucky auditions that Kara has stolen Paula's Over-medicated-Cougar-in-Heat schtick.  Luckily for Paula she still has the Drunk and Delusional Has-Been card to play.

Who had 14 as the over-under on horse racing puns tonight?  And I completely missed 2 baseball bat puns for the parlay.
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I must be overly familiar with the Idol Terrible Singing auditions because I'm contempting the crap out of this show.  It took me a couple hours of intense calculating, but I think I've finally cracked the American Idol Code to ratings success, and I'm going to share it with you tonight: Bad singer-Good Singer-Bad Singer-Good Singer.  I know, that is brilliant in it's complexity.

Well, we’re in Louisville. But it’s the same damn show. Within the first minute, the trumpet player tells Kara to put the trumpet up to her lips and blow. He knows her well. Before the episode is up, we’ll get more sob stories and about 10 zillion plants, including the infamous Joanna Pacitti.

Welcome to Part II of the Good Music Corner's three-part series on the stereotypes that should populate the cast of American Idol.  This week: whiny emo boys!  The producers of Idol are always looking for eye candy to feed the adolescent teenyboppers.  Why not feed them a few brooding poet-types who can drop a metaphor or two?

Emo is teenage anthem music.  Nowadays, the genre is often associated with dyed black hair, tight clothes and other fashions originated by the screamo scene at Gravity Records.  But emo boys are actually much more than side-swept bangs.  They are punkish, lovelorn Romeos, wallowing and raging against the tragic beauty of existence.  Yes, they are whiny.  They whine about broken love, the mediocrity of suburbia and the frivolity of their peers. 

In a world filled with facades, it's refreshing to hear a little introspection now and again, and whiny emo boys aren't afraid to wear their hearts on their sleeves.  

So I'm dragged back kicking and screaming to Bad Singing Week #2.  [NOTE THE SARCASM]: "I am soooo excited."
I figured that since this week episodes are only an hour, that it should suck exactly half as much.  That means that Episode #4 should be an amazing extravaganza, because San Francisco day is a dud.

Is it me, or is this broadcast literally 90% commercials?  And it still stinks.  Luckily with all the commercials there is precious little time spent on bad singing for me to review.  And even fewer good singers.  But who cares about those people.  Our mission is scouting for Worsters.
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Is it just me or is the show getting slightly better? Oh, I know what it is. The show isn’t on for 2 fucking hours. That makes it better by default. Seacrest reminds us that Katharine McPhee and William Hung were found in San Francisco. That’s a lot of suck to live up to, but I bet the contestants can handle it. It turns out that San Fran brings us so much VFTW potential, I can hardly contain myself.