I was on my favorite fleece blanket at the edge of the recliner, in thrall to the Sandman, when my ears pricked to yet another invented word slipping off Randy Jackson's tongue. He said it in praise of someone's performance. I'm not sure whose it was, because American Idol's Beatlemania Part II proved the perfect soporific for me. I can only suppose that one of the contestants had a groovy case of scoliosis. Then I dozed off again, happening to open my eyes in time to see Sayesha Mercado step on stage. Just in case the performance wouldn't dazzle, she put the twins on display to shore it up. But beware, Sayeesha. Even a great rack couldn't save Kady Malloy.
Speaking of using everything in your arsenal .... is it just me, or has Carly Smithson started really slathering on the brogue? Seems like in auditions, there were only subtle hints of Ireland. Maybe next week, she'll whip out the Bono shades. Or maybe Bono will appear and whip the contestants. That I'd wake up for.
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Not having a teevee, dear Henry, we can only sympathize with your sufferings.
As for the brogue &mdash when last we were in Eire, it stole our hearts away. Ah, the lilt of the Irish tongue, when wedded to the blue of the Irish eye!
And as for the whipping, Henry, yer a strange lass, if I do say so meself, and I do.
On the other &mdash paw? I know ye kitties have a very strange sex life, but we won't talk about that, now, will we, lass?
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