Fatale Abstraction

Step away from the Kool-Aid, people...

I'd like to congratulate the 'tards of America who've been voting for that tone-deaf bumpkinette Kellie Pickler for finally coming to their senses and putting an end to rewarding her mediocrity on American Idol. After so many tin-eared performances in which KP sang nails-on-chalkboardingly-off-key (yes, it's a word, I just made it up) and the judges went on to praise her performances, it was simply too good to be true that she was upbraided by them two weeks in a row, and now she's OFF the show? Hallelujah. I'm thinking the romance is over between Simon and Kellie or sumpin'. Clearly, they started off listening to her through their beer-goggles. Oh, wait - that's Coke in their cups, right? Um. Right. Anyway, apparently AI judges confused bombing with da bomb. It's a fine line, but you can hear it after you clean the blood out of your ear canals.

Anyhoo, the blind Italian pop phenom Andrea Bocelli correctly guessed KP is blond. There you go. Perhaps the Lee Press-on Nail™ in her coffin was the woefully wrong choice of the Righteous Brothers' Unchained Melody, which is hopelessly dull, my darlings. I intercoursing HATE that song, and I chalk hits like that up to mass public pyschosis, honestly. Ew. Then she invokes "thayut pawtuhry seen in Gawust" which made me projectile vomit my Jason's Deli. Thanks bitch. No, really: thanks to my bitch, Valentine, who ate up my Kellie puke. Dogs clean up life's little messes. Vaya con carne, Kellie Pickler.

And speaking of colossal boners, in other gleeful celebrity-bashing news, Kevin Costner's in the hot seat for giving himself a happy ending after a massage at a Scottish Hotel during his honeymoon in 2004. I read this story as a blind gossip item, and -if I'm being honest - he's the first megawatt celebrity I thought of. I knew someone who worked in the film industry who said KC was notorious for using the same line on all the women working in production staff on films he worked on. He'd interfere with one woman for a few days or a week, and then toss her over as soon as some other hapless braintrust succumbed to his hackneyed come-ons. Oh, and apparently they were incredibly cheesy, lame pick-up lines, too. I guess when you're that rich/famous/powerful, it's sorta like being Brad Pitt or something - people don't put up much resistance no matter how stupid whatever comes out of your mouth is. Of course, "that depends on what your definition of 'is' is." Then again, I guess married Scottish masseuses with a bit of self-respect will put up a fuss. Good on the lassie, and I hope she wins her court case. And a big pack of sanitary wipes for her massage station. I guess now we know why they cut out his part as the corpse from The Big Chill, because coffins don't come with a pup-tent feature.