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Six Pounds of Crap in a Four Pound Bag

So when I wrote my station break for Wednesday noting that the American Idol voting results show was being delayed by both an extra-long That '70s Show and a promo for another dopey movie directed by that hack who ruined Godzilla, I kind of figured that the show's 8:54 p.m. start time meant that we were going to be treated to a six-minute results program. And a good thing too, since those things were ridiculously padded when there were 10 finalists, let alone just four. Besides, the only way it could be more obvious that Jasmine Trias is going to get voted off tonight would be if she came out on stage wearing a red ensign shirt and if people started inadvertently referring to her in the past tense.

[UPDATE: I'm not going to spoil the result if you haven't actually watched the show... but dear heavenly God, America. Why do you hate popular music so? Particularly those of you in Hawaii?]

But no -- Fox decided that the most anti-climactic American Idol installment in recorded history needed to be padded out to a horrific, unending dear-God-make-the-hurting-stop hour-and-six minutes. So all us lucky home viewers got treated to pulse-pounding segments like the remaining contestants sitting down for interviews with a mentalist -- no, really -- and a medley of Donna Sommer hits in which the final four -- all females, by the way -- happily and unironically sang "Bad Girls," Ms. Sommer's haunting disco number about the heartbreak of prostitution.

OK -- that was pretty cool, actually. But probably not in the way it was intended. Let's try giving those lyrics a look-see first next time, all right, ladies?

Now I must go. Someone left my cake out in the rain. And I don't think that I can take it because it took so long to bake it. And I'll never have that recipe again.


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