OK, so we know that Hollywood Week is mostly boring.  Since there’s no more whacky bad auditions and we’re not at the point where we can start picking our favorites, it’s mostly just a lot of boring montages.   We get  Slow Sad Montages, some I Have Overcome So Much Since High School montages and best of all, we get But I Came So Far Please Don’t Send Me Back, I Don’t Want To Work At Borders The Rest Of My Life Montages.

Except for Group Week!  Group Week is the bright spot on the dark cloud of boredom that is Hollywood Week.  Why? Because everyone goes batshitcrazy because they have to work with other people.  And learn choreography. Everything is going great with the groups until HOLY SHIT THEY HAVE A BOMB DROPPED.  They have to incorporate at least one person from Day One and Day Two on their teams, meaning all their perfectly laid plans are in the toilet.  This. Is. Pandemonium. Who knows anything about these people?  What weird and strange things went on during Day One, the Day Twoers wonder?  Who are these bizarre aliens from another planet who auditioned on Day Two, the Day Oners ponder fearfully.  Not since Captain Kirk tried to reason with the checkerboard-faced people of Cheron has there ever been a more compelling social statement.   Because everyone rehearsed their perfect routines to “Mercy” but now they have the nightmare of having to incorporate someone who auditioned on a different day!

Let me cut to the chase.  This is all horrible.  Have you ever been stuck next to a group of teenagers trying to figure out what lunch table they should sit at? As though their entire lives were depending on if they let the new girl sit with them or maybe this time let some of the guys on the soccer team join but no wait, isn’t she dating Marissa’s ex-boyfriend and I don’t want to sit to that guy from Chemistry and maybe we should just go off campus to Subway or something blah blah blah.  You know the mind numbing aggravation of listening to what teenagers think is important?  THIS IS  WORSE.  The rehearsals and drama about the groups drags on for an hour. In case you weren’t convinced at just how hard it is to find four people to do a few synchronized grapevine kicks to “Amazing” is.

So, let’s get to the good stuff.

Skinny Carrot Top, aka Brett Lowenstein, joins a group called the “Sugar Mommas”.  I’ll just let that one go.

Tiffani Rios, aka Snooki, who pissed everyone off last week with her comments “I’m tired of seeing everyone do what I know I can”) somehow now miraculously can’t find a group to let her join, despite the fact that she walks around barging into people’s conversations, complaining that she’s the only “professional choreographer” here, (“Professional choreographer” = “stripper”, no?) and forcing people listen to her over sing bad pop songs.  Who wouldn’t want that?

There is a group called “The Guapes”, which translates to “The Monies” but really just  makes you think about guacamole.

Meth Face Ashley who’s in a group called “The Hits” decides she can’t handle the stress and pressure of learning a Queen song, so she decides to quit.

American Idol has always been a thinly veiled social construct,  the MTV generation’s “Lord of the Flies”, where only the strong survive, and fierce rivalries erupt between the “Dancers”, those who want to focus on their choreography and learning the steps and the “Lyricists”, those who are panic stricken about song choice and want to spend hours memorizing the words.  Put them together for too long, and eventually they’ll tear each other apart, seeking out the weakest among them to torment and complain that they “just don’t have the right moves.”  Like any American allegory ripping off George Orwell and William Golding, AI has it’s very own “Piggy”, the sweet, sympathetic weakling destroyed by his own kindness and inability to stand up to people who don’t think he can dance.  Poor JC, who suddenly finds himself groupless as the clock ticks down.

Fittingly, Piggy ends up “The Sugar Mommas” with Skinny Carrot Top, the Ralph to the chaos of AI’s jungle island. They make a good team, even as he frantically plays catch up to learn his new group’s routine.

Ryan Seacrest menacingly describes how exhausted all these poor teenagers are.  Please.  Teenagers always think they’re tired.  A teenager will sleep 15 hours straight and then complain how exhausted he is because his mother made him change a roll of toilet paper.  They have no concept of exhaustion.  Try being awake for 30 hours straight on a work deadline, hopped on nothing but half a bottle of 5-hour-energy drink and the panicky fear that you’re going to be fired if you don’t figure out a way to get your sales charts to show up in PowerPoint and then having to drive 45 minutes in crosstown traffic back to your apartment to walk your dog, finish your laundry (so you don’t have to show up at work the next day wearing a bathing suit and your boyfriend’s jeans) and spend 2 hours fixing the toilet because yet again your landlord forgot to send the maintenance guy by.

Steven Tyler forgets that he wasn’t in Guns-n-Roses, and tells everyone to “Use your illusion!” as the performances start. A trio of New Jersey girls, Pia, Alessandra, and Brielle, who all look  Danica Patrick perform Bruno Mars’ “Grenade” .  They sound better than Katy Perry did at the Grammys, and they all get through easily.

Next up is a group that named themselves “Four Plus One”.  At first they were “Three Plus Two” , but then they broke up and formed “Thirty Divided By Six”.  Later on, they started  “The Square Root of Twenty Five”, which eventually morphed into the group’s current inception which includes Jordan and Robbie (who looks like the Jewish Danny Terio) doing a smart Jackson Five medley.  No surprise, the whole group gets through.  Next is Four-Forty (you know you guys can name your groups things other than numbers) which includes Adrian and Lauren   do a very lounge-y and boringly censored version of CeeLo’s “Forget You” and all get through.  Jordan says their group is like a “family”.  Yes, much like my family, we are constantly struggling not to use swear words that would be way more fitting than their dumb G-rated counterparts.

Then it’s time for Snooki Tiffani and Jessica, the only people who couldn’t find a third person who wanted anything to do with them.  So instead of the required trio, they’re a duo.  Whenever a routine starts on the floor, you know it’s going to be bad.  Ooof.  The singing is painful and what’s worse is that they do not understand why. That being said, they are still 100X than everyone who performed at the Grammys, except CeeLo and Janelle.  Randy tells them that they are “really bad” and they tell him they can’t believe it.  Snooki Tifanni can’t believe that she’s getting the boot because she’s sang for the judges three times.

Since the group named “Spanglish” is for some reason still asleep in their rooms, Tyler entertains the auditorium by banging on the drums. He is exactly like what Angelina Jolie will look like when she is 80.  Only half  of Spanglish gets through and the other half get to go back home where they can sleep in all they want.

Next is an all-girl group, with high-schooler Lauren, who do a routine to “Some Kind of Wonderful” that involves Steven Tyler being up on stage with them, like a bachelor at a strip club.  You will want to gouge your eyes out when you see this.  It’s a great idea to have the fifteen-year-old gyrating on the creepy old senile dude, yes? Also, whatever editor decided to inflict “Noodle Nose” on us is clearly a communist who hates America.

I have to ask, objectively.  Is the music of Bruno Mars really that spectacular?  Seriously, every other group sings one.  These songs are terrible and we have to endure one every ten minutes. Isn’t there an Usher song you can try or something?

The Nashville Stars all hail from, you guessed  it, Nashville.  The harmonizing is so painful, J-Lo does a major face palm, just like the one she did in the morning when one of her assistants dared to offer her a cup of tea in a non-Porcelain cup.

People, if you go on one of these shows, don’t try to do the Beyonce song, OK?  She has some sort freak powers in her vocal chords that you’re high school choir class did not prepare you to handle.

This goes back to what I said about the Bachelor this week.  These shows do not need to be two hours long.  After about 45 minutes, your eyelids start drooping and you really wish someone would get into an argument or stab someone or that a big giant bomb would fall from the sky or J-Lo would turn into a robot and start shooting people on the stage with laser eye blasts or SOMETHING ANYTHING PLEASE.

“The Hits” are up next, with MethFace Ashley, who has decided to come back after all.  I was so worried about that.  Note to Everyone: Hit ‘Em Up Style is ALWAYS the best song to pick. For anything. Ever. Weddings. Karaoke. Funeral dirges. Always a perfect song.  Always.

“The D.B” s perform “Somebody To Love”, which meanes you’re going to hear a lot of powerhouse Sad Sack Caleb  screaming, of course.   J-Lo called it a ‘bad Glee audtion”.  Ouch only Caleb and one other person make it through.

There’s a lot of random complaining from other contestants about “The Moms”, a group of women who supposedly are unfair to have around because they’re helping they’re kids too much.  Please.  Unless one of the mothers is Judy Garland, I doubt a group of suburban moms possess any kind of magical druid-like knowledge that will help you in Group Week, OK?  You’d be lucky if these moms even know who “Duffy” is.  I doubt any of them care about much more than getting  back to the Hollywood Days Inn hotel bar for 2-for-1 Margarita Night.

The next group, containing most of “The Moms” kids, take on the same Queen song, and this time it’s pretty amazing.  They all get through, and The Moms are thrilled because now they can go drink and maybe get some shopping done the Highland Mall before they have to go back home.

I officially hate the person who edits these shows.  After the group gets through, there is a ridiculous montage to “We are The Champions”.   If you keep this up, Mr. Editor, the ghost of Freddie Mercury will haunt you to the brink of insanity, rightly so.

J-Lo catches a singer reading the words on a note card and then yells at someone who is not looking out into the audience.  “CHEATER!”.  “LOOK AT ME!” This is what every day  is like being married to her.

The Night Owls perform The Temptations “Get Ready” acapella, and it’s actually really great, but only two of them get through.  The next group, including Jacob, Matthew and Naima,  is even better doing the exact same thing and they all get through.  Ryan makes a noted point to say that “a new star emerges in Jacob Lusk”.  Hmmm.  (Does this mean we’ve found our first sure bet to go through to the finals?)

Its’ time for Sugar Mommas doing “Mercy”.  Their best singer is Sknny Carrot Top. Perennial reject JC explains his harrowing tale, about being kicked out of his group.  Randy seems genuinely bummed out by this, but guess what?  The whole group gets through so HA.

MTV Shows

The Editor worships Satan.  This is the only logical explanation for the horrendous choice to use Coldplay’s “The Scientist” after their win, during JC’s blubbery interview with Ryan.

“The Guacamole Dip with Cilantro” “The Guapes”, the group who kicked JC out steps up next and has to explain why they didn’t want Piggy in their group.  Randy, having seen hoardes of Jack Merridews go mad for power during Hollywood Lord Of The Flies Week, understands this process completely.  But wai, country crooner Scotty has to pull a 180 and express how much he regrets not sticking up for him.  OH WHATEVER YOU REDNECK SUCK UP.  No one believes you gave this more than 3 seconds of thought until Randy gave you that condescending look.

Lastly (wait, did I say “lastly”? It’s finally over! Yes!!) is “Three’s Company”.  They perform “Forget You”. All I can say is…ouch.  Let’s see, there’s Jacqueline screeching, accidentally cursing, and of course Rob forgetting the words.  But I’m sure CeeLo’s second choice for that line was “Ooh I don’t know the words. I don’t know the words.  But oh I’m gonna do my best. I’m gonna do my best.”   Unsurprisingly, he gets sent home and the girls are through.

And with that FINALLY we are free of the tyranny of Group Performances!!  Next week, we get the solo performances and the judges do that thing where they make people sitting in the rooms think they are going home but then tell them that they’re really getting through.  Because that never gets old.