Alas, it is true. Half of the most successful American TV shows are copies of British TV shows. Proof positive that America isn't the only country that exports its crap.
The worst offender in this crap-across-the-ocean trading? American Idol. Give me The Gong Show anyday, because basically thats what this zit-festooned, fetid, intellectually devoid, pathetic show is actually a sad copy of - sans Chuck Barris.
And who are our three judges for this farcicle talent hunt turned vitriolic snob-fest? Well let's see...
We have Simon Cowell, a Sony BMG exec who got his start in the business thanks to his daddy's connections and his socialite mom. Oh, there is a recipe for someone we should be listening too. Sort of like expecting greatness from the union of a scottish baldric and a London prostitute. No wonder he is so insulting and blunt, he has to prop up his ego because he's never actually achieved anything on his own merits.
Paula Abdul. Lord where do a I start. We have an ex-Laker girl who is now a has-been and I think has half the world thinking she is either drunk or stoned half the time. I am going to listen to the musical opinions of a woman who got upstaged by a cartoon cat in one of her mindless music videos? Her songs had the intellectual content of the last thing my dog coughed up.
Randy Jackson. Why dear God, Why? Randy has talent, Randy has achieved musical greatness through his own shear hard work. Randy is cool as hell, in fact, he is so cool you could probably store meat in him. What in God's name is Randy doing hanging out on that show with those two mindless jerks when he could be touring or recording with anyone he wants?
Randy please, leave now before they rub off on you.
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