The finales are upon us. Sadly, my Tivo was (and still is) packed to the gills and ended up trashing The Last Comic Standing and Hell’s Kitchen finales. Yep, they are in the delete pile, vanishing before I had a chance to peruse them, overwritten by other shows on my packed tv show scheduler. When I found this out, I felt like throwing up.

So I had to rely on third party news for some of the recaps. I’m glad I only provide opinions, as opinions never go stale.

My thoughts on the outcomes anyway:

So You Think You Can Dance: Mostly rehash with contestants all dancing previous dance numbers except for gimmicks like the transvestite judge from Turkish SYTYCD, Sierra (whoever she is), Fergie of The Black Eyed Peas (really what’s with the awful guest spots on the Simon Fuller shows?), and short solos from the finalists. Gush. Fawn. Marvel. Praise. So much love from the judges. So not like American Idol. And Benji IS IT! Told you the girls were toast. I love crying Benji. He’s so adorable. Travis was great and a perfect sport. Hats off to you, man.

Last Comic Standing: I cheated via you tube. Whatever. I’m SOOOoooo happy Josh Blue won. The top 2, Josh and Ty Barnett, were most deserving. That guy Chris Porter (3rd placer), with his overtly adult content, was way too weird for my taste. I’m too much of a prude to appreciate him. I so much prefer politically incorrect jokes about the physically challenged and the special olympics. JOSH BLUE ROCKS!!!!

Hell’s Kitchen: What can I say but the right person took it. No surprise that Heather, who stood out as a clear leader from day one, would triumph. She was the audience favorite many weeks in a row. She was predestined to win. Still I hate my Tivo for eating my finale and keeping me from savoring those last few delectable moments of Ramsay’s Hell.

America’s Got Talent: Whaaaat??! How could America pass on the Millers — the Miller kid is a harmonica playing prodigy who dare I say would give Taylor Hicks a run for his reputation? How could they snub my personal favorite (!), the truly awesome, spectacular modern day illusionist and wizard, the terrific [add more superlatives here] Nathan Burton! (I prefer him to the serious David Copperfield or the ultra glum David Blaine.) HE WUZ ROBBED!!! And what about All That, the tap dancing quintet channeling Chippendales and Riverdance? Or At Last, the Asian quartet who beatboxes and does harmonized a cappella? How could these talents actually lose? Tell me America, what is so great about YET another child singer with Aretha Franklin’s voice straight out of America’s Most Talented Kids or Star Search? And my biggest question of all: why do little singing kids leave me cold? A completely unique act could’ve won — instead, Bianca Ryan did.

All in all, it was an enjoyable summer season. Now if only my Tivo had a neck so I can wring it.

Simon: “If your lifeguard duties were as good as your singing, a lot of people would be drowning.”
Piers: “I don’t think it’s very easy to arrange car crashes.”
Gordon: “Escort these two ladies please… Back to plastic surgery.”

Simon: “Why are you having a normal conversation with him? This is a dairy farmer dressed as a woman.”
Piers: “We now know that one of the footman at the palace was a Daily Mirror journalist…”
Gordon: “The problem with Yanks is they are wimps.”

My Meanness Ratings?

Simon: amusing, funny
Piers: uncomfortable, as if he’s trying too hard
Gordon: hard-core

At any rate, I do get a kick out of some of those heartless comments uttered by Mr. Ramsay, my favorites being “You Donkey!” (which sounds more like “Yeewww Dunkee!”) and the truly refreshing “Move Your Ass!” (or was that “Mewv Yer Arse!”) It awakens in me some strange glee that I had seemingly relegated to a childhood full of rambunctious mischief, especially when some other poor sucker of a kid would bear the brunt of my misdeeds (I learned the art of finger pointing rather early; that is, the skill of blame deflection). But glee aside, does anyone really believe that the skull and dagger talk is the way to figure out what hopefuls are made of — to filter the cream from the dregs, or as they say, the way to separate the meat from the chaff, the men from the boys? I’m amazed at what the poor blokes on these tv contests have to put up with week after week. All to get a shot at stardom and victory.

Let’s see, that brings to mind some fond memories… there was a time when I once withstood two years of almost daily castigation:

“This bloody piece of @#&*(%#$)% hell better make it to !@&^*(#% tomorrow or else I’ll bloody have a @#*%$&#%!!!!”

from a boss from hell. Funny… he was also, coincidentally, an import.

< Credit: thinkexist.com for the chuckle-worthy citations >