It gives me an outlet to vent.

I would never EVER suggest that you watch this show. It is the devil. You be better off attending your local high school’s spring musical or karaoke night at Fat Dave’s Bar & Grill. AI is utter mediocrity synthesized and served up in pretty lights with a blissed-out Stepford-girls crowd waving their manicured hands in the air. It offends me, and the rubbernecker in me cannot seem to stop watching the pile-up.

My short takes on the remaining contestants:

Aaron Kelly: A sweet little kid with acne who could use years more of performance experience. Maybe should go into Christian teen music or just be the featured soloist in his church for the next 70 years.

Andrew Garcia: Snore. Unremarkable “modern singer-songwriter” voice. Neck tattoos are gross. Horrible glasses. I don’t want to see his dad crying again about what a dodgy upbringing he gave his kid in the stupid inset “personality” bits. Suck it up, old man.

Casey James: Adorable shaggy Ken doll who could sell a lot of albums/tour tickets because he is sweetly good-looking and doesn’t completely blow. Dumb enough to get multiple DUI convictions. Very…mild.

Crystal Bowersox: Looks completely unhappy to be there at all, although likely looks miserable most of the time anyway. “Yellow Teeth Award.” Good pick for Janis Joplin biopic, then back to the local coffeehouse/bars.

Didi Benami: Just wants to be famous. Dead friend story. Has large teeth and the female version of the “modern singer-songwriter” voice. Smells like Hollywood, filtered through "attempted natural kind of girl."

Katie Stevens: Go back to high school.

Lee Dewyze: Just a regular shlub, with zero charisma. Looks like he wants to pee his pants or throw up at all times. DO IT.

Michael Lynche: Giant overconfident dude whose voice lacks the power his size would suggest.

Paige Miles: Not appealing, and not memorable in any way. Slightly buggy eyes make her seem sort of lost. Spandex is not her friend.

Siobhan Magnus: The #1 most annoying contestant by far. Quirky clothes, snaggleteeth, a fondness for coloring books, and a rather dim-bulb intellect combined is nothing compared to the sheer horror of her screeching. Awful awful awful. Stop singing completely and try acting your age of 19 rather than 11.

Tim Urban: Needs a Nick/Disney preteen TV show before he starts shaving or his wide-eyed wonder grows suspect.

Yes, god bless American Idol. Of course, there is no god.