So when you break it down, So You Think You Can Dance is pretty much like March Madness. Except it’s in August. And it’s dancing instead of basketball. And none of them are old enough to be in college. And most of them like guys.
Okay, so it’s not really like the Final Four, I guess. Or maybe it’s more like the women’s Final Four. Except a couple more people watch this. And most of them like guys. Ah well. Anyway, there are four of them, and they are the final contestants. Final Four. Boo ya.
Pretty good show last night, and yet I still wasn’t too pumped about it. This season is weird.
Two freakin’ hours for four dancers? Of course that’s not gonna hold my attention well. I can hardly tie my shoe without getting distracted by thoughts of what life would be like if I were Usain Bolt. Or Flash Gordon. I don’t have the attention span for this, Nigel. Cut me some slack. You know how American Idol performance shows get shorter as more contestants get eliminated? You know how you’re a producer for American Idol? Let’s put those two thoughts together and come up with something that doesn’t bore me so much that I’d almost rather get up from the couch, put a toothpick under my toenail, and kick the wall as hard as I can? K? K.
So Cat walked out on stage, looking rather ragged. She looked kind of cracked out, or like my wife said, that she’d just gotten home at 3am after being out clubbing the whole night or something. I mean, she was still cute and loveable Cat, but her hair/make-up person must have been half-asleep, like I was. Jet lag blows. We got back into town from Vegas at around 2:30am, so if I don’t make any sense, blame planes and time zones, not me.
So what did you do for National Dance Day???
I, for one, did several dances in Vegas in between throwing dice and snorting coke off the bellies of hookers.
Okay, that’s a lie. I didn’t dance, and you have to have money to get coke and hookers.
Cat informed us that she danced in her bedroom and if we had seen it we’d all be bleeding from our eyeballs. I haven’t done that since I watched the movie Glitter.
Four judges again tonight. Yay.
Tonight we get Tyce D-Oreo or something. I’m pretty sure he’s the only one on the show gayer than Shankman. But Shankman is likeable and Tyce makes Paris Hilton look like she’s not a snob. Talent.
Once again, we had a night full of everyone having nothing critical to say about and of the dancers except poor Adacheeky. They obviously want him off the show this week, but all of their bashing him may actually have the reverse effect. We’ll get to that later.
On to the dances…
The Final Four:
First up, the top four all got together and danced a Broadway number by Tyce. I wonder if Tyce will like this one.
Is it just me, or do these contestants all like each other a little too much? Do they realize they’re competing with each other for a quarter of a million dollars and some other crap that doesn’t matter when you compare it to a quarter of a million dollars? I’d be going all Tonya Harding on the other contestants. “You ain’t getting’ MY money, beeotch!” That’s how I talk. I was raised by the streets.
They all did well, and the judges agreed. Except for Adacheeky. The judges thought everyone did well except for him. Poor Cheekster.
In my opinion, Robert was the one who stood out to me in that routine as not being quite as good as the others. Seemed to be a flexibility issue to me. But what the hell do I know?
Anyone else notice how they didn’t have Mia judge that one? Maybe the producers all realize that the world is growing tired of her retarded judging and retarder made up words. I was pretty glad we didn’t have to hear her, personally. We’ve gotta get rid of her. This show needs a Mary Murphy like American Idol needs a Paula. She’s someone you hate when she’s on the show, but you miss her when she’s gone.