Tuesday Night T.V. Review (Sounds Like a Sheryl Crow Album, doesn't it?)

First off, I have to get this off of my chest: Kaysar is the biggest fucking idiot this side of George W. Bush, I kid you not. I thought Chicken George would take the cake, but no, Kaysar, on his THIRD, count them, THIRD chance, buggers it up. So there goes my Season Six dreamteam yet again. What a frigging idiot. IDIOT. I am mad beyond words.
And as for Rock Star, I really can't stand that arrogant Canadian guy, but I am totally cheering for Dilyana or whatever the hell her name is - I call her Diludid as a pet name. And that frigging Sheeba or whatever the fuck she is, Zaraya or whatever, well, she completely freaks me out. And I suppose I should google Gilby Clark, because, dude, I have no clue who you are. I missed introductions the first week. And finally, Dave Navaro - could there be a more annoying person on the planet? And he looks so... strange. I think he's really just Prince whitened up with some of Michael Jackson's Jolene skin bleach and some tats. The resemblance is frightening!
Oh, and while I love the show and I admit, there is something sort of human deep down about Tommy Lee that would make him fun to have a drink or two with, but dude, you look so old! Now I know, I too am long in the tooth at 36, but just to see this Crue dude, who 23 years ago was all in the makeup during the Shout at the Devil era (I admit I had that album, but I kept it hidden, because it didn't mix well with my Depeche Mode, but I sorta liked them up to that point - Too Young to Fall in Love was so damn good. They lost me with Theater of Pain, though, although I had to listen to it incessantly with Margo, God love that crazy bitch) - but anyway, what was I saying? Oh yes, Tommy is middle aged and beneath the tats, he sort of has this Richard Dawson vibe about him. But it's all good. The Metallica dude is the only one who is like normalish. But yeah, our Tommy is getting old.... so that means we ain't far behind, peeps......
And finally, I tried to watch The One, and I mean, it completely stinks, and the premise is so cockeyed - the winner gets a recording contract, but first I think the audience votes, and then the bottom three are left, and the judges save one, and the CONTESTANTS vote who goes. So I mean, HELLO, they'll get rid of the good ones. It will be a roomful of Zayada's and Chicken George's left at the end..... And who the judges are, I have no idea (missed the first hour), but the one has a dyed blue goatee and he's 105 years old, so yeah, you're really cool - when you are standing up next to BARNEY MILLER, dumbass.... and the black guy is the mean Simon prototype, but without the fun, and the chick, well, I can't even comment, because she might as well be Carmen Electra, because she seems as intelligent.
And that, my friends, is my review of this week's shows. But I am addicted to Rock Star, I will leave you with that.
Yours,
Ebert and Roper and whoever else (or to quote a song I secretly love and know all the words to, the Bloodhound Gang's "The Bad Touch" - "Yes I'm Siskel, yes I'm Ebert and you're getting two thumbs up" - bet you'll be singing that song all damn day now :)