Idol Concert Review

I am writing a recap of the concert, because I have decided that my thoughts are important.

You see, I work for a regional advertising company as an analyst. I analyze things. and advertise them. It's wonderful, but highly difficult work. Not just anyone can do it. Like you, sitting there, reading this right now...you couldn't do it. People would laugh if you even tried. My writing this is proof that I have what it takes.

My great hope is not only that you ordinary folk will enjoy my words (although most of this will be well above your heads), but also that the idols will read my in-depth analyses and epiphanously realize in which direction they should take their careers. Because I know what they should do. Because I am an analyst.

Analysis ON!

Michael:

First up was a fellow named Michael. I had never heard of him before, but he seemed happy to be there. A little too happy, perhaps. Apparently, he likes country music, oil rigging, and eating. In my expert opinion, he should stick with that. Well, maybe not so much the eating part. He's going to be a big star if he follows my advice.

Megan:

Next was a girl named Megan. She had a warbley voice that was sort of interesting. I think she should sing more, and then she might get better. I really know what I'm talking about here! She was dressed up like a 1982 Barbie doll whose right arm your little brother popped off and replaced with a GI Joe Cobra arm. She is pretty though. I believe that if Megan continues to be pretty, it will serve her career.

Scott:

Third up was Scott. Scott sings, plays the piano, and is blind. A true triple threat. However, his singing is not yet as skillful as either his piano playing or his blindness. This should be worked on.

Lil:

Next up was a lovely lady who was apparently named after a snack cake. Lil Rounds sings hip hop style music, and has a voice that's a big as her butt. Hip hop is definitely her forte. For all of you thinking that Lil should go in the direction of Joni Mitchell, you are WRONG. I'm the expert here, and I say hip hop best suits her vocal range. Also, her large posterior is far too distracting for music that's primarily lyric-based.

Anoop:

Anoop was next. He emerged from a digital rainstorm that at once sparked my thirst and filled me with me a wild urge to urinate. Good job with that one. I guess Anoop sang "You Were Always on my Mind". His memory seems to be better than mine, because I can't remember him at all. The only thing on my mind was sucking down a plastic packed Bud Light while standing in line for the ladies room. If I were Anoop, I'd work on getting better graphics. Maybe something involving fuzzy bunnies. Because everyone likes bunnies...and looking at them only rarely makes people have to pee.

Matt:

Then it was Matt. Matt sings and plays the piano. Sometimes at the same time. His piano playing is excellent, and he sings very well. However, Matt is not blind at all. This should be worked on.

GROUP NUMBER:

Finally, to close the first half, there was a group number featuring the bottom 6 and enough wildly clashing vocal styles to incite a seizure in even the most remissive of epileptics. My expert advice is that these people not start a band together.

Intermission:

Daughtry was not surprised. David Cook walked backwards. Carrie Underwood had nice teeth. Over and over again. I wanted to take a Louisville Slugger to both jumbotrons.

Allison:

After a long wait, the next contestant up was a small immigrant child named Allison. Plucked from nomadic obscurity off of a chicken truck in Mexico, Allison is a true find. Though she is only 7 years old, Allison sang Janis Joplin with the soul of a boozed-up, emphysema-riddled, brittle-hearted 45 year old. And I mean this in the best way possible. Though her singing is phenomenal, I believe that Allison's best shot at fame lies in her youth. She should not get older. If she doesn't listen to my important insider advice, she might fail. Or get old. Or both.

Danny:

Danny Gokey was up next. On the show, Danny wore glasses. He also wore glasses in person. He also sang like he'd just chewed and swallowed a pair of glasses. I guess glasses are his shtick. Well, glasses and a patented combination of hip thrusting and morality preaching. What's great about Danny is how seamlessly he alternates between clumsy "I want to do you" songs and clumsy "I wish you weren't dead" songs. That takes a lot of talent and/or schizophrenia. Personally, I can't tell which style is creepier, so I will (expertly) flip a coin and tell Danny to...get into modeling. Wait, that wasn't one of the options. This damn coin keeps making me look bad.

Adam:

Next on was a creature called Adam Lambert. He's a tall and shiny and slippery being who boasts a molecular structure similar to that of iridescent eyeshadow. I think he might sing well, but I couldn't hear him over the sound of the audience's heads collectively exploding in excitement. (I do not envy the clean-up crew). Adam cavorted around the stage, wriggling, writhing and brazenly invading the microphone stand's personal space to the point where it may need therapy later in life. However, at one point, the red-haired immigrant child came out to join him, and Adam tastefully pointed his junk away from her when thrusting. He is truly a gentleman.

I cannot say enough positive things about this man. He is phenomenal. Everything about him is amazing. Especially his feet. His feet are going to change the way we listen to music!! Oh, and the way he sings too. My expert advice to Adam is to keep singing well, and to sing songs that people like. He should also sing songs in a style people like. I know this advice sounds a little wacky, but my years of experience in the field tells me that my hunch here is spot on.

Kris:

Winner Kris Allen got much less applause than did runner-up Adam Lambert. This didn't have anything to do with people liking Adam better, though. It was only because half the audience had died from spontaneous combustion during Adam's set. Though, since Kris' act went by without a single death, or even a heart-stopping close call, I guess it's safe to assume that people did like Adam more.

The thing is, have you ever eaten a can of Spaghetti O's and meatballs? Of course you have. And when doing so, have you ever painstakingly eaten around the meatballs so you could save them for last, as they are the most awesome part? And after savoring every meatball, do you sometimes find two or three lone O's stuck to the bottom of the bowl? And you eat them, but it just isn't the same after those meatballs??

That's what watching Kris close the show is like. He is also short. These are the two main issues standing between Kris and stardom. He should work on these, though I'm not sure which problem will be easier to rectify.

Finale:

All of the contestants came out to sing one last time. What was left of the audience cheered and waved, then promptly forgot the names of every contestant but Adam, and maybe Kris, and possibly Danny, who's name they remembered by accident, as it is a very common one. Now, while the audience's minds are soft and impressionable, is the time for the idols to make their marks.

So I will close with my last golden nugget of advice. Heed it well! Idols, with hard work and a little luck (or a whole lot of luck in some cases...you know who you are), you can all be beeg eh-stars. Or at least the stars of your local Futons and More grand opening event. Hey, it's still better than the oil rig.

beef.

that's all you need to know really.

would you like to buy some paper towles? that's right...i said towles

So i've decided to quell all attempts at properly spelling words. it always seemed to be quite the futile effort anyway, as i have absolutely no knowledge of the english language (you know, what with me being born in Yugoslavia and all). in any case, this is not the direct reason behind my newfound misspelling edict, nosireebob. the real reason is....correct spellings are SO passe. i mean really, everyone uses them nowadays, particularly considering the recent, nigh space-aged advancements in digital spell-check technology. Good spelling used to be a novelty- something properly utilized only by doctors, philosophers and, you know, nerds. but now, now! there's no freshness left in this act, in this one-time artform. alas, the arrangement of letters in the proper order, dictated by the rules of the language known to the French as Anglais...has become terribly obsolete. pedestrian even. oh how it pains me to admit, but admit i must.

sooo..here we are, now at the brink of my burgeoning revolution. no longer shall the written word lull readers to sleep with its mind-numbing accuracy!! we shall revolt! er...revelt? revolte? revollt even? ah well, that's the beauty of the misspelling culture-there exists endless possibilities. its just a plethora of imprecision, a veritable buffet of inexactness. that's right, all you can eat, only 5.99 plus tax. oh, i should probably mention that drinks aren't included in the buffet pricing, but hey, who needs fluids anyway?

ah what's that rumbling i hear? why its the sweet sound of stomachs growling with the hunger for revolution!!

uh...revellootion? whatever.

cheese...

cheese.

that will be all.

thank you, and have a fine evening.

would you care for some fruitcake with your mold?

once upon a time, when ol’ monkeytron was merely a wee lass, there was a holiday “party” held at her middle school. you know, the sort of event where all the kids sit at their desks, place some sort of food on their festively decorated napkins...and play hangman. or 7up. or they toss around a koosh ball. ahh koosh, how i miss your utterly squiggly neon strands. but i digress.

monkeytron’s teacher informed the little kiddies that she’d brought in a special treat for all to enjoy. and it was the quintessential holiday festive food. thats right folks, teach hauled a whopping brick of fruitcake to school. imagine our elation when we, innocent creatures that we were, first set eyes on the massive hunk of dough and multicolored fruit chunks. why, we couldnt wait to bite off a piece of that ol’ holiday goodness. however, the euphoria died down as the wee ones examined the slices of “cake” that had been dolled out. upon inspection, it became apparent that the fruitcake was indeed covered with mold.

yeah you heard me. teach gave us lads & lasses individually-sized slabs of mold-enveloped fruitcake. woohoo. the children wisely decided to speak up, voicing their concerns over the overly penicillin-rich cake. when confronted, the wise, astute teacher replied with the following statement: “fruitcake is supposed to be moldy”.

not so wisely, us kiddos decided to heed the words of our beloved professor. reluctantly sampling the green-tinted slices that rested on our holiday napkins, we seemed to be immediately, and collectively, struck by the poor taste. in fact, it was downright nauseating...but i will spare you further details on the subject. i will simply say that the rest of the day was spent making periodical trips to the drinking fountain. in fact, so many of the little children felt the need to continuously wash out their mouths that ol’ teach had to make a sign-up sheet for fountain visits, so as to not obstruct the hallway.

in summation, i will leave you with these wise, yoda-esque words that all would be well advised to regard:

teachers you should never trust when moldy is the fruitcake.

happy holidays folks.

bite me.

so here i am, back after a mere 2 days departure. are you surprised? because you shouldn't be...i represent the pinnacle of dedication. the height of pure devotion, if you will. and if you won't, well then you can bite me.

i feel that in the time prior to my little 8 month "freedom break" (yes, thats what ive taken to calling it now...deal with it), i became far too involved with you all. indeed, the degree of sheer closeness that we experienced was downright frightening. of course i got scared! how couldn't i have? it was all moving so fast, i needed time to breathe, to sort out my issues. ME-TIME even. because its all about MONKEYTRON here. so youd best be respecting my needs. muhahaha.

my goodness, how unseemly. in any case, all of that has been sorted out with the help of the psychiatrist wondertwins, Bernice BonWilly and Béarnaise BonWilly. Fun, ne?

anyhoo, on to more relevant matters. upon recollection, i feel that my return post was rather abysmal. indeed, the bulk of this lurvely orange blog is comprised of worthless nonsense. but that last one, gah. it crossed the border into Lameville, without a passport. how hardcore is that? at least my other posts had the courtesy to provide legal documentation when entering the territory o'Lame. that last one...its a rebel. without a cause.

now, you might all be wondering "what in the name of Bald Danny is that lass talking about?". and the answer is...(drumroll please)...who the hell knows.

HA, i got ya there! now what have we learned from this experience, children? never visit the circus of wonder expecting to find rationality? that is correct. lucidity is not on the menu here. of course, one probably shouldnt come here expecting wonderment either, nor a circus for that matter. but thats beyond the point.

so i think i'll just stop typing now. (don't look so happy about it)

a classic story to celebrate my return

there once was a woman named Franetta Franella.
she was very old (120+) and yet still strangely active.
she owned a small boy named Ianurtle Rothwilly.
this boy did Franetta's grocery shopping, and showed her guests around town.
one day, Harry Pinter and HPM met with Franetta.
Harry wore a lovely sweater with the expression "WORDS!" embroidered into it.
HPM wore plaid riding pants, a bow tie, a fez and a matching plaid eyepatch.
Franetta became bored with Harry's incessant use of the word 'intellectual', which he pronounced 'intellectoooole'.
Franetta ordered Ianurtle to show the man and monkey what the town of Heldengerble had to offer.
they all climbed on a 3-seat tricycle, and were off.somehow, they ended up at the drive-thru church on highway 765.
here, the famous actress Maggie Smith (TM) was performing her song "i am a broad", from the hit musical entitled "Monkey: Geoffrey Palmer Gets Hit by a Bus."
when she finished, Judi Dench came out, and began delivering a eulogy for Harry Pinter.
Ianurtle turned to Harry.
"i thought you were alive" Ianurtle said.
"i guess not" said Harry.
Ianurtle turned to HPM, who shrugged his monkey-shoulders.
here is an excerpt from the eulogy:
Harry Pinter was not a wise man. Harry Pinter was not a kind man. But Harry Pinter WAS a wordy man. Yes, Harry Pinter was nothing if not verbose, and if not verbose, he was nothing. WORDS EVERYWHERE, WORDS.
this continued for a good 3 hour period.
during this time, Harry decided that he would speak up.
he wanted to mention something about possibly not being dead.
however, just as Harry was about to interrupt, Pierce Brosnan arrived.
he had a pink basket in his hand.the basket was labeled, "stuff for people who liked and/or didnt actively hate Harry Pinter".
the basket was full of peanut butter cups.
suddenly, Harry sat back down.
"i thought you were going to mention being alive and all" said Ianurtle.
"screw it..." said Harry,"
...i like peanut butter cups".
THE END.

broken promises

uhhhh........


what a stunning way to announce my comeback. Indeed, nothing beats a big, noncommittal "uhhh" when one is first attempting to explain away an absence of over 8 months. actually, i fear i may be mistaken on that point, as the following seems far more suited to the task:

uhhhh........yeah.

as you can see, the "yeah" adds a much needed sense of closure to the original statement. so lets go with that one. or at least say that we did.

in any case, there is a perfectly valid excuse as to why i suddenly abandoned all of my dutiful fans. and that excuse is....i got abducted by aliens. yep. you heard me. the ol' monkeytron has seen what others have only theorized, and gone where those weak of conviction would surely fear to tread. oh, and they were scary Charlton Heston aliens too, so that makes my adventure even more harrowing. because really, who would want to come face to face with a gun-toting, alien Cheston?

of course, i should mention that the whole "alien-abduction" fiasco only took up about two weeks of my time. The rest of my little respite was occupied by sifting through the hordes of fan letters i received, all of which were lamenting my absence. begs and pleas for my return filled up my mailboxes, both online and off. and i took it upon myself to respond to each letter personally. Thats right, every one of my fans received a note handwritten by my secretary, and a glossy 8'x10' photo of my head. and no, i didn't mean to write 8"x10". screw inches, i'm talking feet here! my devotees deserve the very best, because they are the very best. awww

now, i could be wrong, but my Madame Cleo supersenses are intuiting some disbelief in the audience. i swear, every bit of my story exhibits a height of precise accurateness rarely found in cyberspace. well, except for the whole "abducted-by-aliens" spiel. that i made up. but the fanmail thats all true!! for reference, here is an e-mail sent to me by one of my followers. please note that i have never met this person before:

Dear Monkeytron,
hi, my name is uh...monkeytroff (i'm russian..yeah that's it).
i think you are SO AWESOME that i can hardly stand it.
since youve been gone, i have veritably LOST THE WILL TO LIVE,
only not literally, because that would be a total downer.
in any case, monkeytron, you are the single greatest entity to grace this earth
in the entire history of man.
Sincerely,
Monkeytroff (who is of no relation to you, in any manner).

so just to reiterate...that was an actual letter from a true blue fan. its certainly not something that i wrote myself, just now. noooooo no no no. that would be dissolute, and mildly insane. and as we all know, i strive to be more than just "insane". no, monkeytron prefers the far less pedestrian moniker of "frikin nuts". ahh, endeavoring to be the best in your field is so fulfilling.

anyhoo...i'm sure youre all wondering what the lovely miss M. has been up to during the hiatus. i promise to fill you in fully at a later point (and by "later" i mean never), but tonight i'm going to give you a little taste test of what's in store. a teaser trailer, if you will. or a Whitman's sampler. or one of those cold cut trays they serve at parties...you know, the expensive ones featuring cheese cubes and a parsley garnish.

so, the main news is that i've renamed myself both "Biff" and "Pepperidge Farms". however, seeing as how i have retained blog-anonymity with regards to my real name, this news should scarcely be of interest to you. additionally, i have fashioned an entire yahoo newsgroup about bread. its got bread stories, bread fanart, bread polls, and 12 whole members. yeehaw. i also added more scenes to my famed musical "Monkey: Geoffrey Palmer gets hit by a Bus", and umm...i got abducted by aliens. wait, i tried that one already? damnit.

in any case, i shal leave you with the profound words of a certain Ms. P. Farms:
"he who combs his beard up and over shall henceforth be known as Yettian".

goodnight all (and by all I mean me...as i'm the only one who reads this wank...muhaha)

yeah its been awhile...deal with it

so yeah. in case you haven't noticed, im back. back with a VENGEANCE..or, u know, not. whatever.
anyhoo, hopefully this time i shall actually keep my promises and return on a regular basis to my beloved orange blog.

oh btw...ive come to the conclusion that its better if i just ignore the fact that ive been gone so long. ill pretend it never happened, and youd be well advised to do the same. explaining where ive been and what ive been doing would be boring, redundant and ultimately impossible, seeing as how i can barely remember yesterday let alone 3 months ago. yes its true, the ol monkeytron is getting senile. so sad, so tragic. and it seems that in my senility, ive forgotten to check the clock. suddenly its 4am and i really had no clue. oh dearie me.

in any case, it feels good to be back.
night kiddos.

HOLY GOD

so now its almost the end of may...

DAMNIT!!!