Is American Idol really on again tonight?
I can't believe it. Two goddamn nights in a row. And this is only just the beginning, friends. Our lives will soon become over saturated with the colorful antics of wannabe pop stars. Only the month of May will bring the end of it. By the numbers: that's four and a half glorious months of 16 desperate whales crooning and trilling their way to "victory." (Please. As if winning American Idol guaranteed success.)
I will say this much about last night's season premier covering the auditions held here in my hometown of Minneapolis, MN: never have I wanted more to take a dull meat clever to the hairy testicles of anyone who insists that Midwesterners are ignorant, talentless hicks. I'm talking to you, Randy Fatson. Simon Cowbell: you, too. Just remember this: the ineffable fortitude of Miss Marge Henderson can kick your whiny little asses. Watch your backs.