So Bobblehead Archuleta (or as I heard him described only this morning Doolittle minus the hump) shrugged his way into the American final... based mainly on his ability to deliver a syrupy ballad with enough earnestness to make you overlook the fact that he's a singing Thunderbird with the emotional maturity of a Paris Hilton foetus. I love him though - mainly because he's the only person on the planet who hasn't worked out yet that he's gay. The producers are going big on it - this week the "funny video" had him playing a grand piano by a pool tiled with his face Liberace style. Hardly subtle boys.
Wor David made the final at the expense of 'cut priced Whitney 'Syesha - who made the fatal mistake of revealing a monster setof Norks AFTER the vote was counted. Man had she done that before I'd have voted for her the whole time I had her on freeze frame. So at least twice (yup, they were THAT good)
Which means of course that Little David will be up against angsty wanna be emo fatso David Cook in the final. Cooky (as I like to call him) will probably wheel out the sick brother for the final - he's made an appearance whenever it's been a shaky week for DC musically. And I hope that it works. The world needs an Estrogen-y Daughtry right now --- he's more Maroon 5 than he is Slipknot.
We'll be away for the final (finale!) but the DVD will be on and I might be borrowing a Slingshot.
Oh and Nikon FINALLY brought out a decent superzoom. It's *18. It's looking nice (though no RAW on a Nikon?) and it may be a gift to self very soon, I do have Nikon envy.
No comments:
Post a Comment