I'll admit it! I've got a huge beef with American Idol. For years I have (okay, perhaps unwisely) used this column as a bully pulpit to point out Idol's numerous flaws—the worst being that I've never appeared on the show, or won. It's freaking ridiculous, guys! Their job is to choose America's next worship-worthy singing star, AM I RIGHT? And yet? They've repeatedly barred me from competing because of stupid and completely discriminatory age requirements! Result: AMERICA LOSES.
Time and time again, I have screamed for justice, insisting they loosen their upper age requirements to something more reasonable—like 67. (I may try out again when I retire.) But instead of raising the age limit to allow me in, they lowered it even more! Now some wet-behind-the-anus diaper baby can steal the fame and limelight that was obviously intended for me, thereby allowing the Justin Biebers of the world to drive around in their white Lamborghinis given to them on their birthday by P. Diddy (true story), while I'm picking the coffee grounds off a half-eaten bologna sandwich that accidentally fell in the trash! EFF YOU, WORLD! EFF... YOU!!!!
However. I'm willing to put aside my anger, as well as my .30-06 high-powered rifle, if the producers agree to one small demand. Make ME a judge on American Idol.
As you may have heard, there's been a huge shake-up on the Idol judging panel. First Paula Abdul left (read: was shoved out on her face) to be replaced by moderately amusing lesbian Ellen DeGeneres. This was followed by the resignation of Simon Cowell, which was then recently followed by the flight of Ellen, who's far "too busy" being moderately amusing (and a lesbian) to sit on her ass for two hours a week, wrecking the dreams of untalented subpar teens.
Now, the great news in this shake-up is that the completely shrewish and unlikable Kara DioGuardi may have been given the boot. Meanwhile, the worst news is that the inexplicably boring Randy Jackson will probably stick around—thereby making us suffer through yet another season of him saying, "I dunno, dawg... it was kind of pitchy for me." SHUT YOUR STUPID FACE, RANDY! An empty can of paint thinner has more personality than you!!
See? Now, if I were an Idol judge, I'd be saying hilarious things like that all the time! My job would be to remind other judges of their inferiority, while incessantly hinting that Ryan Seacrest and I are engaged in a torrid homosexual tryst (is there any other kind?). Then? I'd spend the remainder of the show taking out all my failed-pop-star frustrations on these less-than-worthy con-testants. I'd hop onstage midsong and shove them out of the way to "show 'em how it's done." Then I'd cruelly and meticulously destroy their self-esteem, after which I'd seduce and impregnate them, eventually abandoning them in an Idaho trailer park (i.e., the fate of Mrs. Wm.™ Steven Humphrey #2). Only THEN will I receive the fame and adoration an "idol" like myself deserves. The way I see it? You're never too old—to be the DESTROYER OF DREAMS. HAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!! (Ahem. Good day.)