Idol Beat: Last Call For Beardo

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Buck up pal, maybe My Morning Jacket needs a backup bassist.
This just in: the American Idol finals will be sans facial hair.

Jesus, *two* "Walk this Way" signs? I'd sacrifice David Archuleta to the god of skinny punks just to see a "Steven, Show Me Your Big 10"" placard. Just once.

You knew tonight's episode was going to be particularly unendurable when they decided to visit the British consulate in honor of the royal wedding. Crazy as it sounds, I'd actually hoped the show might be one place to escape the avalanche of nuptial-related inanity. You've failed me for probably not the last time, Idol.

For those of you who scrubbed the taste of Wednesday night out of your mouth like that girl at a party we threw in 1993 who accidentally drank out of my roommate's spit can, the final six had one last loogey to hock at you. The Carole King medley was by turns workmanlike and - when Scotty was singing - grotesque.

Also, in lieu of commentary on the weekly Ford commercial (done to Madness' "Our House"), I just want you to imagine me imitating Kif's annoyed sigh every time one airs from here on out.

Crystal Bowersox, last year's runner-up, puts in an appearance. How pleasant to see someone claiming to be a country singer who actually shows some range. Just kidding, Scotty. Wait, no we weren't.

Then there are more viewer-submitted questions for the finalists, courtesy of AT&T. And we learn: Casey would duet with jazz great Oscar Robertson (who nobody there has heard of); Jacob realized his vocal range early on (probably from the screaming that resulted the first time his mother mismatched his socks); Lauren thinks the hardest thing about being a finalist is being away from her tornado-stricken home state.

I don't have anything shitty to say about that; Scotty's pre-Idol job was working at a grocery store and...his mom's tanning salon; James is in a lot of bands; and Haley's all-time favorite former contestant is Adam Lambert...no, it's Kelly, no...it's Lee DeWyze...no Crystal, maybe it's Taylor Hicks...OH FOR FUCK'S SAKE.

Of the first four called up (Haley, Scotty, Lauren, Casey) only Haley is out-and-out declared safe. Seacrest pulls what I'm sure the producers think is a devilishly clever tease by sitting the other three without telling us whether they're in or out.

James, on the other hand, is safe. I think I'm calling him for the final two. Not sure if he's going to beat Scotty, but perhaps.

Lauren and her newly curly hair: safe. That leaves Jacob, Casey, and *gasp* Scotty. Then again, Seacrest said the results were being laid out in random order, so there isn't a proper bottom three. Nevertheless, those were the three guys remaining. And I called two of them.

Bruno Mars. "The Lazy Song." He and Travie "Billionaire" McCoy are apparently dipping into the Kriss Kross/DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince school of dumbass lyrics.

In order to spare you the suspense, Casey gets voted off. No judges' saves left, beardo. Given the lukewarm response to his last couple performances, there was next to no hope of the hirsute scat-man making it much farther, though I'm a bit surprised he went home before Jacob.

So now there are five. I still have to put Jacob at the head of the line for next week's booting, but then it starts getting hazier. Let's say...Jacob, Haley, Lauren, Scotty, James. Yeah, I think James is going to win this.


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