I give up. Lil and Anoop voted out.

I worked as a dude who picked songs for a MAJOR RADIO STATION for chrissake, and I can’t figure out American Idol this year.

I’m like William H. Macy in The Cooler. I’m like Cool Hand Luke in the farmhouse. I’m perennially cursed. You know the confident and languid  men that drink a finger of scotch every evening? I’M NOT LIKE THEM AT ALL.

Lil and Anoop get voted out. I get embarrassed. I’m a hair trigger away from forgetting this American Idol blogging stuff and fixin’ to churn out another Roy Barnes? Will He Or Won’t He? scribe.

Leave a comment. Or don’t. I don’t care. My faith in man is shattered. My ESP is non-existent. I suck. Don’t trust me for AI predictions, because I’m like Dick Cheney on a hunting trip- drunk, dangerous, and shooting my friends in the face.