RuPaul's Drag Race season 9 recaps

The shadiest Drag Race recaps on the web. Get ready to death drop, queens!

The Bachelorette Australia recaps

One woman, 14 desperate men, mucho LOLs. Oh, and Osher Gunsberg.

The Bachelor Australia recaps

Sequins, spray tans and sex - it's season 3 of the world's stupidest dating show.

RuPaul's Drag Race Season 8 recaps

YASS, HUNTIES! Every episode of season eight recapped for your reading pleasure. Let's get sickening!

Saturday, September 30, 2006

Weird Al Yankovic's Polkarama

I have always loved Weird Al Yankovic - whenever I hear the word "spatula" I still launch into a rendition of "Spatula City - we sell spatulas...and that's ALL!" from his movie UHF, and I only ever saw it once.

At any rate, if you've never heard his polka mash-ups (where he takes a bunch of popular songs, turns them into German beer-drinking, thigh-slapping style polka tunes and strings them together in a medley) then you're in for a treat. His new one is particularly good.

Incredible Inedibles: Haw Flakes

As previously mentioned, I find supermarkets to be an endless source of mirth. In fact, I can barely wander through one without bursting into laughter at something (usually SPAM related) and embarrassing whoever I happen to be with at the time.

I find odd food products (particularly canned meat and variants thereof) endlessly amusing, and have often been tempted to buy Camp Pie just because of its funny name. I actually have a friend who is similarly afflicted and has an entire collection of funny canned foods proudly displayed on top of her microwave - including tinned Barbie spaghetti and some strange canned concoction involving sausages.

And with that I welcome you to the first of a new section here at the BC, Indcredible Inedibles, in which I blatantly rip off a similar section on one of my favourite blogs ever - The Sneeze's "Steve Don't Eat It".

What this means is that periodically I'll be buying strange food items that take my fancy and reviewing them for your reading pleasure. FINALLY - an excuse to buy that potted sausage with pineapple I've been eyeing off.

Today I'm kicking it off with the delightfully named HAW FLAKES, which I found last night at the Chinese supermarket.

I hope these have nothing to do with leprotic prostitutes.

OK, so there's a million much more strange food items to be found in a Chinese supermarket, but screw you, I'm not putting my health on the line for this shit. And they're called HAW FLAKES! It had to be done.

For the princely sum of 65 cents (I know - I already checked my watch to see if it's 1975 - it isn't) I scored 10 rolls of Haw Flakes in the one packet. TEN! Imagine what Chinese Whispers would do to news like that: PetStarr's got 10 packs of Haw Flakes at her place, pass it on - PetStarr's got 10 packs of whores at her place, pass it on - PetStarr has 10 fat whores on her face, pissing on. This was going to be great.

They looked suspiciously like fireworks, but they were in the sweet aisle, so what the hell were they? Let's check the ingredients:


Great. So Haw Flakes have haw in them. Excellent. Although the two serving suggestions - in front of the TV or in the park - were rather helpful. I chose the TV option, and excitedly ripped open a roll to find...


A bunch of hard discs the colour of offal. Oh christ, offal. I mean, I know the Chinese eat some weird shit, but surely NO ONE would mix cow arseholes and pig lips with sugar and call it a sweetie? SURELY?

As it turns out, I was right (in this instance, at least) - the "Flakes" taste fruity, like some sort of dried berry. More accurately, they taste rather like those cheap no name fruit bars you buy in bulk at the supermarket for kids' lunchboxes, or those dodgy pretend versions of Uncle Toby's fruit RollUps that kids get bashed up for having ("HA HA, THAT'S not a proper RollUp! Your mum's poor!" *THUMP!*)

So it seems "haw" is some sort of fruit. At least I hope it is - perhaps the Chinese have perfected a way to disguise the taste of pig lip and arsehole.

Breakdancing mini Indian

I think this is possibly the best video I've ever seen.

Sunday, September 24, 2006

Oz Idol wrap up: 3rd semi final - "Number Ones"

Check it out - they're still going through the contestant recap on TV and I'm already writing a wrap up for you beeyatches. See how much I love youse all?

So tonight is the rather unfortunately titled "Number Ones" night, where each contestant has to sing a song that's made it to number one. We assume that means in Australia, but who knows - if Reigan Derry were still on the show she'd probably choose to sing "Kwame Mo Mugambo", an obscure number one hit from Kenya in 1978. Thank god she got voted off last week.

Ken Doll and Monkey Boy ask Marcia what it's like to have a number one record. Marcia says it's pretty nice. Holden says it's the biggest buzz in the world. They don't bother asking Kyle, as no songs on the King Kyle label have ever made it to number one and he wouldn't know anyway.

Then they introduce Idol's two "performance coaches", William A. Forsythe and John Rowe, who sound suspiciously like characters from a Sherlock Holmes novel. Everyone wonders where the hell they've been for the past three weeks while Lisa Mitchell has been shuffling around like an alzheimers sufferer.

Anyway we kick off with Klancie "Shania" Keough who says she feels she really "broke through" in her last performance, when she anyone remember? Anyway she then informs us that she's petrified of performing. Clearly she doesn't realise the rest of us feel the same way. She comes out in the most horrific polyester/rayon black-netting-over-grey-shiny-lining number you've ever seen, straight from the 70% off rack at Table 8 Harbourtown, teamed with Spendless shoes and a silly grin. As she slurs her way into (yes you guessed it) Shania Twain's If You're Not In It For Love, squinting into the camera with her hair greased up and half sticking to her face and sweat glistening on her neck, and strutting around the stage trying to look sexy, she looks like a pissed-up bride on her hen's night. All that's missing is a plastic glitter tiara with condoms hanging off it to complete the picture. She even throws in a few drunken "WOO!"s, the kind you do in the Parachilna pub at 4am after 10 Bacardi Breezers when Britney Spears comes on the jukebox and the security guard is trying to get you down off the bar but you know secretly he thinks you're hot.

Holden says he wanted to get his barbie sizzling but Klancie's snag was underdone. Then he calls her an enormous dag. So it's a good start. Marcia says she did a darn good job, and comiserates that it's not easy to move around when you're not used to moving. We wonder at which point Klancie was a bedridden paraplegic, but Kyle butts in before we can remember. He says she was damn sexy. I guess if you like your women looking like the rohypnol is just kicking in, sure, she did. Then he says she's come from zero presence to 90% - he's obviously borrowed the Idol calculator Holden used on Reigan Derry last week.

And then it's on to Damien "Diddle-dee-dee" Leith, or at least it would be if thousands of viewers hadn't just changed channels in disgust at the sight of a pale, white Irishman trying to dance R&B style with the two performance coaches. Shudder. Clearly taking fashion notes from last week's special guest Sheridan Tyler, Damien is wearing a black jacket, jeans and a white shirt. Original. He wins votes from insomniacs across the land with his performance of some Ronan Keating song which puts everyone to sleep instantly. He rips out a bit of his falsetto again, but yada yada yada we're all bored with that trick. Yawn. Bring Klancie back, at least she gets her tits out occasionally.

Marcia tells him he has a fine instrument, and it's just "BING". Those Reader's Digest "Increase Your Wordpower" articles clearly haven't been working for her then. Holden proves once again that he knows all the industry lingo by thanking Damien for shortening his phrasing. He also says Damien is delicious. We all wonder what an Irishman tastes like. Shamrock? Kyle says if all of the songs Damien had sung on Idol so far were on a CD, he would buy it. I say if all of the songs Damien had sung on Idol so far were on a CD, it'd be the kind you buy for $4.50 at the petrol station. Damien leaves the stage to go race horses somewhere.

Next up is Lavina "I'm Really Missy Elliot" Williams. She tells us how she loves to dance even when there's no music, and how that probably scares people a bit. Not as much as the crazy shit she gets around in. Tonight she's wearing a studded cap, baggy shirt and Adidas trackies with hoop earrings that look big enough to be handcuffs (perhaps they were once?) - clearly she has been held up with Idol rehearsals on the way to fanging it down to Westfield to hang out with her ladies outside Timezone and eat Maccers fries. Fortunately she changes in time for her performance of Don't Leave Me This Way - a blue satin lace-up disco milkmaid top Reigan Derry was going to wear if she'd stayed this week, but instead lovingly folded and left on Lavina's bed with a note saying "Love ya Lavs, kick BUTT next week!" before she was voted out of the house. It would have been so easy for her to be amazing with this song, but in the end she's just ok. Perhaps I'm just being distracted by her camel toe.

Holden says she's got the chops required to be a star. So THAT'S why the Idol backstage BBQ was cancelled tonight. Marcia tries to take us all back to 1983 again by saying "You go girlfriend, that was bad!", where bad actually means good. Kyle says it actually WAS bad, and not in a good way, and reckons Lavina has a connection problem. Hopefully she'll be able to get onto I.T and have it fixed by next week's show.

Then we have Chris "Facial Hair" Murphy, losing fans and ruining his chances with a bit of Phil Collins' Take a Look at Me Now. We ARE looking, Chris, and frankly we're a bit put off. For someone who could be Kram from Spiderbait's long lost twin brother, it's a crime he's not trying a bit of Black Betty or Buy Me a Pony here, but I digress. He also has gone for the black jacket and jeans look but, unlike Mr Leith, Chris has shwon some intiative, going for a BLACK shirt instead of a white one. It's THAT sort of innovative thinking outside the square that wins competitions like this, son, good on you. Unfortunately his outfit isn't enough to distract us from the fact that he completely arses up the end of the song, and that the song was pretty lame anyway.

Marcia says it's nice to see him sitting solidly and delivering. Standing solidly. Anyway it's nice to see him sitting. Standing. Where are those bloody pills? Holden says she's like a lioness protecting her cubs, which sends Marcia into a psychedelic chemically-induced trip out in which she thinks she's stalking antelope in the African savannah. He tells Chris he looked uncomfortable. Marcia roars and paws at the desk, baring her teeth at Holden. Kyle tells Chris his beard is nice and ungreasy, but the song was lame. Chris complains to Ken Doll and Monkey Boy that every time he picks an 80s song he gets trashed for it. Holden says that's absolute rubbish. Chris says he was actually talking to Kyle. Kyle rolls up his sleeves and suggests they take it to the carpark. Marcia says nothing, having picked up the scent of giraffe from across the auditorium. And then it's time for Dean Geyer.

We see a montage of the two performance coaches salivating all over the lovely Dean as he pulls some spastic dance moves, pointing his finger in the air and bending his knee like John Travolta. "That's hot, HOT!" squeals one, while the other sends a text message to his girlfriends saying "O MY GOD I LUVS DEAN SOOO MUCH! HE IS TOTALLY HOT. CHAT LATERZ XX"

Clearly Dean overheard Kyle's earlier comment about Damien Leith's Idol album and has decided to put his own together - BOGAN ANTHEMS VOLUME 1 - as he launches into The Goo Goo Dolls' Iris. The only thing that saves this performance is his unbroken stare into the camera, a trick he learned in episode one. Girls and gays all over the nation are transfixed by his steely blue eyes as he performs some sort of mind control on us, and suddenly I feel like signing up with Telstra mobile and buying a new Mazda. Zoom zoom zoom. But then he has to blink to stop his retinas from burning up, and the spell is broken. As the string section kicks in we start to feel that maybe Dean has this one in the bag. Sure it's a classic scrubber wedding reception song, but maybe, just maybe he's got the goods to pull it off. And then he turns his back to the audience, sticks his hand in the air and points, crooking his leg like John Travolta. You can almost hear Mr Forsythe gushing "Hot, that's SO HOT!" backstage.

Marcia says it was a convincing performance, and advises him not to compete with anybody but himself. Yeah great idea, I can see that working: "Remember - Dean is only competing against himself this week so don't vote for anyone else." Holden says his chest range is getting stronger, and that he's smoking. Are the two related? Scientists are currently working on the answer, but don't be surprised if Dean's next performance comes with a Surgeon General's warning. Kyle says there's no stopping Dean because he fixes things instantly. Well at least he can fall back on being a tradey if the whole singing thing doesn't work out.

Then it's Mutto with one of my personal favourite karaoke songs, Hoobastank's The Reason. The main reason it's my favourite is because I can always get top score on Singstar with it. Which must mean it's not really that hard to sing. Mutto should romp it in. He doesn't. In fact, he slows it down and drowns it in 1980s-ness to the point where it sounds like Cher's If I Could Turn Back Time. Backstage, Klancie gets excited and starts pulling on her black lace leotard and getting the cannon ready, but it's too late, Mutto's already hit the chorus: "And the reason is YO! And the reason is YOU!" Which is it Mutto, YO or YOU? I'll tell you what it is, it's EXACTLY THE SAME AS THE LAST PERFORMANCE! Enough of this Bono style punching the air, crouching down and meaningful staring to power rock songs. Let's get funky up in this bitch, yo! Or you. Whichever.

Holden says he likes him as a bloke but that he's flatlining. Marcia says in Holden's world maybe he's in trouble, but in Marcia's world she's having tea and biscuits with teddy bears and kittens sprinkled with diamond dust, and Mutto is serving the sandwiches. Then she tells him not to speak again, and makes him go the rest of the night writing down his responses to questions to conserve his voice. Kyle says it's the same thing week after week. Mutto argues that he slowed it down so people could get to see the beauty of the lyrics. Kyle says no one cares about that shit. For once we all agree.

Next up is Jessica "Whitney Aguilera Clarkson" Mauboy, looking slightly scary in a floor length white evening gown that has eaten her feet. We can't work out if she's going to her wedding or her high school formal, but her hair, makeup and accessories are all fabulous. REALLY not sure about that dress. But she sings Christina Aguilera's Beautiful so well, we don't really mind. She finishes triumphantly and the audience applauds for about 25 minutes - has Holden gotten stuck in the toilet or something? No, he's there, let the judging begin.

Marcia says "Jessica" about 13 times, and then says something else. That's really all you need to know. Holden says she's beautiful and then gives the first touchdown of the season - YES! WE'RE IN TRUE IDOL COUNTRY NOW, HONEY! The crowd stands, cheering. People are crying, strangers are hugging each other, there's dancing in the streets, church bells are ringing through the suburbs... And then Kyle ruins it all by talking about kids dying in the street and how politicians should be doing more about it. Or something.

Then we have Bobby "I'm So Unique" Flynn. The performance coaches note that he has "a very unique way of moving" and wonder where it comes from. Judging by last week's epileptic-style hand jiggling, we wonder if maybe it comes from a congenital birth defect. He steps on stage in a brown velvet jacket and everyone realises how much he actually looks like the crazy frog.

Spot the difference

Thankfully he doesn't SING like the crazy frog, but it cements my preferences for listening to him, and not looking at him. Actually take that back - has he forgotten the lyrics? Admittedly he's singing Arthur's Theme but that's no excuse. He slurs his way through, looking bored, sounding like shit, and not particularly caring that he's forgotten half the song. He also throws the microphone stand to the floor in a very lacklustre way - it's what punk would be if they played punk on MIX 102.3.

Holden is furrowing his brow and resting his head on his hands to show how concerned he is. He says he's lost for words. Then he makes the most obvious joke of the night by telling Bobby he looked like HE was lost between the moon and New York City in that song. Amanda Streete yells out "BOOM BOOM CHING!" from the audience. Marcia channels a high school guidance counsellor and says "Bobby, talk to me. What's up?" to which Bobby replies that he just got caught in a trap. Everyone thinks how much better it would have been to do THAT song instead. Kyle asks him if anything bad is going on in his life right now, and expects a truthful answer on national TV. "Yeah Kyle, actually I've decided I'm gay and I'm wondering how to tell my family. Oh whoops - there you go!" Marcia asks if he's missing his family. Ken Doll asks him if he's ok. We all wonder when they're going to give up AND LET THE MAN GET ON WITH HIS LIFE.

Hola, it's Ricky Muscat, with some song about Hard to Say I'm Sorry. Does anyone really remember this one? Is it Boys 2 Men? The tune is familiar but did this honestly get to number one? Who cares - it seems Ricky has dropped the crazy facial gymnastics, which is enough reason to celebrate.

Marcia says she liked some of the stuff he sang. Not all of it, just SOME of it. Holden says it was an ambitious song choice, and it was out of his league. It must be a pretty sad day when a Boys 2 Men song is deemed too hot for you to handle. Kyle says he looks like he's stepped out of a Nick Giannopolous movie. Nick Giannopolous immediately gets on the phone to Harry M Miller to stitch up screen rights.

And then it's Lisa "Yawn Shuffle Shuffle Yawn" Mitchell, who once again is saying something completely inaudible about movement to the performance coaches, who are politely nodding and smiling whilst trying to lipread her. My money was on her singing Missy Higgins' Scar for this episode, but instead she's opted for Vanessa Carlton's 1000 Miles which is practically the same song, so everyone who took me up on my bet technically owes me $10. OK, OK, I'll settle for $8. Clearly the performance coaches gave up on trying to help her to do anything resembling movement, and have once again resorted to plonking her on a stool in the centre of the stage. At one point she gets off the stool and walks to three steps to the front of the stage, and everyone cheers as if she was a paraplegic who's just stepped out of her wheelchair for the first time since "the accident". She stands there, pigeon-toed, in her Jay Jay's outfit, for the rest of the song.

With eyes sparkling, Holden tells her it's a pity she's been criticised so much in the last few weeks, clearly forgetting that he was the one actually leading the charge. He says he loves what she just did, it was lovely, and she's lovely, and he's got those adoption papers all ready to go if she just wants to sign them after the show. Marcia says it blew her away. Kyle welcomes her back from oblivion. Holden says the fact that she didn't need her guitar tonight proves that she has developed as a performer. No, actually it proves that there's no guitar IN that song, Holden.

And so closes another night of Idoltastic deliciousness. More a night of steaming number twos than number ones, in my opinion, but who cares what I think? Assuming you DO care what I think, my money's on Mutto, Bobby Flynn and Lisa Mitchell for the bottom three...

The Simpsons Vs. The White Stripes

Just a quickie before my Idol wrap up tonight - it's The White Stripes on the Simpsons! YES! Check it.

Jack White is still hot even as a cartoon character with yellow skin. As we knew he would be.

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

Check out my mate!

A quickie, for all youse BC beeyatches - check out my mate Raoul Duke over on the HOAN Express. The Sopranos start again tonight and evidently he's excited, as this post contains the words and phrases:

  • chubby
  • slapping the old lady
  • banging pole dancers
  • cunt hair and
  • split watermelon

While you're checking out my mates, you might as well have a look at newcomer Redcap, who's made me proud by stealing my idea of paying out products in junk mail catalogues. Damn her and her psychic ways. Don't worry, I'll steal it back and do it in a month when everyone's forgotten.

Monday, September 18, 2006

Oz Idol wrap up: 2nd semi final

I'm back, I'm back! Yay! Are you happy? Apologies to all my loyal BC-ites who missed a wrap up of the first semi final, but if it makes you feel any better - I didn't even get to see it myself. I was in the only place in Australia Channel 10 doesn't broadcast to. People there say "Rove who?" it's great, it really is.

Anyway down to business. This is ROCK NIGHT, and the judges let us know how they feel about the genre. Holden says there's more to rock than just shouting over a big thumping beat (Vanessa Amorosi's Absolutely Everybody springs to mind here). Marcia smiles and says she's a big fan of rock and roll. Everyone wonders why she's still allowed to speak on air. Kyle says he's looking forward to exciting fire, hardcore and craziness. Clearly he is on some heavy flu medication and thinks he is at a Crusty Demons demolition derby, because as everyone knows, none of those three things will make an appearance tonight. Still, we soldier on.

First up is Ricky Muscat who, we learn, has been "styled" by some guy called Sheridan whose claim to fame is that his dad is fashion designer Richard Tyler. According to Idol, Sheridan is a GENIUS and so we eagerly await the HARDCORE ROCK AND ROLL STYLE he is going to swathe our Ricky in.

In this instance, "style" seems to equate to a t shirt, jeans and some hair gel, and Ricky ends up looking like any kid you'd find hanging out in the local Westfield. He seems happy though, gushing "Usually people just see me in jeans and a T shirt, and now they're seeing me in full on slacks and collared shirts and stuff." Slacks? Don't stop the rock, Ricky. It's ok though, they eventually pour him into a pair of leather pants and he becomes our first rock cliche for the night, singing Franz Ferdinand's Take Me Out. Out where? In those pants I'm thinking the Mars Bar. Or perhaps a rodeo. Ricky channels JD Fortune for this number, strangely giving a more animated performance than Franz Ferdinand actually did when they were here for the Big Day Out. Once again he starts pulling those weird, intense facial expressions he's unfortunately become famous for - they make him look like a psycho Japanese teppanyaki chef just before he throws a boiling hot piece of yakitori chicken in your face.

The camera cuts to the audience, where former "rock chick" Amanda Streete is pretending to have a good time whilst secretly fuming: "This was supposed to be MY night. I would have done that song SO much better."

And then it's over. Holden tells him he's "cocky and rocky". Hey, and Ricky! He should have that on a T shirt. Marcia tells him he's a clotheshorse. Everyone wonders if she's remembered her medication. Kyle calls Holden an old turd for no apparent reason. Monkey Boy calls Ricky a tool. Oh no wait, he says rock and roll is a tool of the devil. Whatever. Then Monkey Boy gives him some football medal, and Ricky wonders if he's just won Idol. He hasn't.

Next up is The Best Thing To Ever Come Out Of This Country Musically, Lisa Mitchell.

As Sheridan THE GENIUS begins to style her up, Lisa craps on about her own personal style, which is apparently a micture of preppy, and cute, and something else and something else and WHO THE HELL KNOWS WHAT THIS GIRL IS EVER SAYING? DOES SHE EVEN SPEAK ENGLISH? SOMEONE GET AN INTERPRETER, FOR GOD'S SAKE. Once again she's wearing a vest, making us wonder if she perhaps doesn't have shares in a vest company.

She starts singing Dancing with Myself, a much better choice than her original selection, Playing with Myself, which the producers felt might get misconstrued. Once again she gives a boring as all hell performance and looks like she's trying to remember the words. Clearly she doesn't succeed, as her version of the chorus seems to be "Dancing with mice e-elf." Again, she shuffles about the stage looking like a dementia patient, which again, is even funnier in fast forward.

Marcia says it's great to see her "working the stage" every week. Surely she means "walking". Holden tells her she doesn't need another father, but if she changes her mind he'd really really REALLY like the position. Actually, he tells her to stop meandering about and learn some stage craft. Two weeks after praising her as TBTTECOOTCM, Kyle tells her he's right off her. "I'm off ya, I'm right off it." Holden says he's not off her yet. Marcia wonders how they all got on her in the first place. Lisa looks bewildered, or bored, I'm not sure which.

Then we have everyone's favourite skinhead, Mutto. We start by discussing his personal style, and by the looks of the photo montage from his past he doesn't actually have any. He mentions how he's embarrassed about his rather thick crop of body hair, and everyone realises he actually has the world's first body mullet - short and shaved up top, thick and flowing down below. THAT is truly rock.

He sings Clocks - clearly Coldplay is ROCK now, although I can't imagine anyone bodysurfing a mosh to The Scientist, so I think that claim could be disputed. Will he be disqualified for trying to dress up mum and dad lo-fi cruise music as ROCK? As it turns out, no, he won't. He gets his Bono on, crouching down low, closing his eyes and frowning into the microphone, but his falsetto is crud and it lets down an otherwise good performance.

Holden tells him the performance was "workman like" and then asks him to open his jacket. We're not sure what he's looking for - perhaps a workman's uniform. Then Mark talks about his falsetto. Mark loves to say falsetto. Marcia says thank you. Kyle starts to say something, and Marcia interrupts by leaning over and whispering something in his ear. Perhaps she's asking if he's seen her medication. Kyle then calls the audience idiots, and tells Mutto to cut out the ballet, which sort of solves the mystery of where Marcia's medication has gone.

Check it out, it's Ashlee Simpson! Oh no wait, it's Klancie Keough, dressed like a tart once again but still looking sort of cute. Damn her. She's singing - surprise, surprise - some country song. She's sporting a cute new fringe, except that it's gone all greasy and piecey, as if she's a spotty 14 year old working the counter at Donut King. All in all, it's just a bad Shania rip off. And do we REALLY need another Shania? A BAD ONE?

Marcia wants to know where she got her jeans from, cos she'd like to buy a pair. Viewers all over the country turn down the volume on their TV to silence the sound of 300 studio audience members gagging. Holden says she delivered it with honesty, which means it was true to the country spirit, which means it's crap and no one will like it. He tells her he thinks she's from a different era, and we wonder if he hasn't slipped back into the Twilight Zone again. Kyle says she looks fantastic, and then slips her his phone number on the back of a condom wrapper.

Next up it's Todd Flanders Bobby Flynn.

Spot the difference

Sheridan starts telling us how Bobby is like no one else. Bobby is an individual. Bobby is unique. BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH. Bobby has an afro, ok, we get it. It doesn't make him an INDIVIDUAL, it makes him look like an idiot. When will people get over afros? The only people who look good in afros are black, THAT'S WHY THEY'RE CALLED AFROS. Lanky gingers with bad teeth do NOT look good with big hair. Take note, Mr Flynn. The shows sponsors sit up and take note as Sheridan cements Bobby's fate, which is clearly to never win Idol: "Bobby really hates brands, he doesn't like to be a billboard." Goodbye, Bobby.

But as he launches into a daring version of Werewolves of London, and I hear his lovely, lovely voice, I am smitten again. I TAKE IT ALL BACK, I LOVE YOU BOBBY, YOU ARE AN INDIVIDUAL AND I LOVE YOUR AFRO MORE THAN IS NATURAL! He's looking sharp in a white collared shirt with the buttons undone, and a black dinner jacket and jeans - it's sort of a "morning after Las Vegas wedding" kind of vibe. At one point he looks like he's having a fit as his left hand starts shaking uncontrollably, but perhaps it's just tha Frank Sinatra sized hangover he's got after that Vegas wedding.

Holden does some werewolf impressions, and tells him he's inhis own musical universe. We're not sure which universe Mark is currently in. Marcia says she's a nosy person, and admits to having watched the audience, and not Bobby, for the duration of his song. Kyle says it's brilliant, fantastic, excellent. Vive le Flynn!

We move on to Reigan Derry, and Sheridan THE GENIUS is unsuccessfully trying to get her to wear a dress, or black pants, or boots, or ANYTHING. Reigan wondes why he's bothering - I mean, didn't he see her Swedish disco milk maid number the other week? As if SHE needs any help stylin up!

Our Shakira lookalike kicks into an obscure song by obscure band Karnivool, who probably paid her off in Swedish milkmaid outfits and suede clogs to give them some exposure. We know it's rock night, honey, but that doesn't mean you have to break out the System of a Down. Fuck! As she screams into the miscophone, pulling a crazy ROCK face to match her black leather outfit, the kiddies in the audience get scared and start crying for their mums. I do too. Actually, she's pretty kick arse as a rock chick (take THAT Amanda Streete), but clearly she'll go nowhere with this one, because people "can't sing along to it". She caps it off with a final note so shrill and broken that dogs in the outer New Hebrides start barking. Clearly pleased with herself, Reigan gives the international sign of the devil, and then gives the peace sign just to be sure (or perhaps she's trying to get super Christian Dean Geyer into bed and doesn't want him to think she's too evil)

Marcia gives her "props" for singing "the dog note". She continues to search for backup medication. Holden says she didn't put a fire in his wire, or a shiver in his quiver. We wonder if this amounts to sexual harassment. Kyle tells her she's mental and stupid. Holden interjects by saying she should do it to 110, and she only got to 93 that time. Reigan wonders where she can buy an Idol calculator like the one Holden's obviously got stashed under the desk.

Diddle-dee-dee, it's Irishman Damien Leith. Sheridan dresses him up like Shannon Noll in a black jacket and white shirt - clearly he has shares in a black jacket and white shirt factory, as he's dressed almost every boydol in it tonight. Our little leprechaun sings Radiohead's Creep, which sucks. It's sped up, there's no swearing, and he holds his notes like a bad cabaret singer. But then his falsetto kicks in, and by the time he gets to the final note we've all been charmed again and we're busy making him cupcakes and cards that say I WUV YOU in silver painted macaroni and paste.

Holden says his voice has elements of Roy Orbison, and wonders if he has orgasms when he holds long notes. Idol's HR person puts another tick in the "sexual harrasment" box next to Holden's name on her clipboard. He tells him not to hold every note, and to get more variety. For the 500th time Marcia makes a point of contradicting Holden, telling Damien not to listen to him and to just "sing, brother man, sing". She's like one of those overprotective mothers defending their poxy kid's every wrong move: "How many times have I told him not to draw on the farkin walls?" "He can draw on them if he wants to ! He's being creative!" Kyle says he loves him and can find no fault, but then criticses him for wearing Ricky Martin's pants. We suspect they're actually more likely to be Ricky MUSCAT'S pants, which leads us to imagine that he must be backstage somewhere, trouserless...

Next it's an in-depth look at Jessica Mauboy's personal style, which might as well be 30 seconds of blank tape, because she clearly doesn't have any. Sheridan says he wouldn't compare Jessica's style to anyone else. Good move, I wouldn't want to offend anyone in that way either.

For once she sings something other than Whitney Houston - it's Kelly Clarkson. Sheridan has shown his versaility as a stylist by dressing her in a white shirt, black jacket and jeans. Just for something different. She does, however look great. She used to look like someone who shops at Target. Now she looks like someone who'd walk straight past Target...on their way to Just jeans. But hey, it's a start. She gives a most kick-ass performance of Walk Away.

Marcia delivers her trademark eubonics with a "Go ahead wit yo bad self!" Everyone checks their watches to see if they're in a New York ghetto in 1983, but the results are inconclusive. Holden reminds everyone that he's a PROFESSIONAL producer by saying some crap about phrasing, breathing and control. Kyle tells her he doesn't want to see her jelly belly in a white t shirt. Everyone strains to see what tiny bulge of tum he might be referring to. Ken Doll calls him a chubscout, and Kyle says he'd be happy to get the ruler out. Hang on, exactly WHAT chub are we talking about here?

Moving on, thank goodness, to Chris Murphy. Having just taken a thick hit off his crack pipe, Sheridan THE GENIUS dresses him in a stretchy red head-to-toe jumpsuit that even Jack White would struggle to pull off. (I wouldn't struggle to pull it off Jack White, but that's another story). Thankfully he opts for a more sensible outfit for his performance, which is some song by The Darkness. It's like Meatloaf meets Jack Black in neon spandex with glitter hairspray. It's strangely awesome. I wish I were in a country pub with a whole jukebox full of Chris Murphy's Greatest Hits. We realise again, that he is grouse.

Holden says he's digging it, and tells Meatloaf to watch out. Marcia says something about having lunch with his family, and tells him his wife looks beautiful. If she hasn't found her medication yet, she's clearly scored herself some uppers from somewhere. Kyle agrees with Mark and pretends to be annoyed by it, even though he agrees with him every week.

Then there's Lavina I'M EMILY'S SISTER, YOU KNOW, EMILY FROM LAST YEAR'S IDOL? SHE'S ON THAT DIVA TOUR NOW, YEAH HER, SHE'S MY SISTER Williams. She tells us her style is "tracksuits" because "you can wear a tracksuit absolutely anywhere if you accessorise and glam it up."

Yeah, see?

She comes on in a hoodie and dark eye makeup, singing Evanescence. She looks like she'd beat you up while her boyfriend broke into your flat and stole your CDs before taking off in his Skyline. Mummy, hold me. But then she throws off the hood with a triumphant grunt, and kicks into the chorus - and bloody hell, she's alright. She rocks. Even when she sings a dodgy note we don't care, we just want more. She is AWESOME. And then it's all over, and she does that tiresome Williams sister humble act. Sigh. Whatever.

Marcia experiences a glitch in the Matrix and says something again about working the room. Holden says it sounded like the next rock opera hit, and no one's sure if that's supposed to be a compliment or a criticism. Then Captain Obvious reminds us that it's up to viewers to determine if she'll be the next idol. Kyle says he wants to admit something, and we all hold our breath as we wait for confirmation of those pesky gay rumours, but he ruins it all by admitting something entirely different - that he thought Lavina was crap until tonight. Oh well, there's 11 shows to go.

Thank GOD it's the last act, Dean Geyer. Unsurprisingly, Sheridan dresses him in a black jacket and shirt with jeans. Unsurprisingly, he looks hot. He sings yet another bogan anthem, Shimmer, but again it's the kind of bogan anthem you love to secretly sing to in the shower, or in the car, or in bed late at night when you're awake thinking about Dean... ahem. Sorry about that. Once again he shows off his camera skills, staring deep into the barrell on every shot and mesmerising his audience. Or is he just transfixed by his own reflection in the lens? Who wouldn't be. The final note is dodgy in the extreme, but luckily for him it's drowned out by screaming gay men and teenage girls.

Holden says it's under the note. He says it should be in the centre of the note. Then he asks for some grunt and grunge. Everyone in the audience agrees that getting some grunt from Dean would be rather nice, actually. Marcia reaches into her book of stock phrases, turns to page 124 and tells him he needs to be himself. Kyle says he needs to work on his voice, because apart from that "everything is ready to rock". Yeah, we know, he's hot.

Phew, and so we come to the end of another mammoth show! Thank god they're getting rid of someone every week or this blog could be the death of me.

Monday night's result: Reigan gets the arse. No one is surprised.

Friday, September 01, 2006

Oz Idol wrap up: episode 5, filler-a-thon

We start by kicking out all of the chicks from episode 2, except for Lavina "Emily's sister" Williams and Lisa "I'm actually five" Mitchell. Lavina has fallen from fashion grace by wearing a bizarre 70s disco top that looks like cheap wrapping paper, and it's clear Raechell and Lydia have been out on the piss all night because they're still wearing what they wore for their performance the night before. Lisa gets through, Holden does a dance, and she sings Diamonds on the Inside for about the five millionth time. She seems a bit lost without her stool to sit on though - fast forwarding through her dull-as-dishwater performance makes it a lot more entertaining, as she looks a bit like a dementia patient shuffling about the stage. Lavina sings, she is great, then thanks god about 10 times, and Monkey Boy rolls on into the next segment, which will no doubt be something really exciting.

Oops, spoke too soon. Next we're introduced to some joker called Josh Zepps who will apparently be thrilling us no end throughout the series by bringing us the "backstage gossip" every night. Who is he? Who cares?

Then they waste more time by showing a clip from Jon Butler Dan England from Idol 05 who apparently has a new song coming out this weekend. Great.

Then we have to sit through Guy Sebastian's new song called...well, who cares? He's wearing a brown anorak and black pants, which is enough to make me hit fast forward. Honestly, I wish someone would slap him upside the head and say "Guy, sing something FUNKY for fuck's sake! We're all sick of hearing romantic power ballads and weird Christian-influenced songs about being lifted higher on the wings of whatever the fuck. JUST BE STEVIE WONDER, ALRIGHT?" And if I hear ONE MORE SONG that ends with a tinkly flourish of chimes, I'm going to punch the radio. Monkey Boy marvels at how easy it is to forget how good Guy Sebastian is. Even easier when he sings shite like that.

Then we see a bit of "the making of" footage from Guy's latest video shoot, where he lets us all in on the "magic" of making a video clip.

Still awake? Just checking.

Then there's an ad break - and there's an ad for McDonald's Deli Choices rolls, which is very colourful with twangy music, and one for a new car that looks super speedy and good, and there's that new one for chewing gum with the snowman that I like, and it's all very exciting and then...we're back to Idol. Sigh.

Monkey Boy introduces Anthony Callea, who is in Sydney and on a video link up. Judging by his jaunty nautical-inspired outfit I'm guessing he's given up on his pop career and joined an amateur production of Dames At Sea in which he's playing Second Seaman. He then ruins Channel 10's el-crappo attempt at TV magic by revealing that he's not actually standing in front of Sydney Opera House, it's just a blue screen with a photo on it. No one is surprised. He advises all the contestants to "give it all you've got" and then wanks on about some new album he's been working on in America. The poor loser contestants, who have thus far been forced to sit in on every show despite being voted out, are then made to ask the four foot guru sucky questions like "How important is song choice in this competition?" and "What's been the highlight of your career?" and "Who are you again?"

Then there's another ad break, and gosh, THIS time there's a very spunky one for a new hair colour, and a mobile phone, and then ANOTHER McDonald's ad, and they're all so colourful and animated and...damn, it's back to Idol again.

We're finally into the business end of the show now, and they announce the wildcard entries for this year: fat Jesus, Terence Trent D'Arby, the "rock chick", Marty '05 version 2, Chris Graffitti (hey, his name is funny enough as it is), Ricky Martin, the Bonester and the KKK.

(That'd be Chris Murphy, Nathaniel Willemse, Amanda Streete, Guy Mutton, Chris Graffitti, Ricky Muscat, Brendan Boney and Klancie Keough.)

With half the girls in the final 24 left sitting at side of stage, it looks like the loser bench at a 1950s high school prom. There'll be tears before bedtime.