This Isn’t About Sushi Porn At All

So first, please tell me there’s some sort of spam filter I can add to my mailbox so I stop receiving countless photos of sushi porn.  If I see one more slice of raw tuna I’m gonna spew all over this keyboard.  Again.

Does This Make Anyone Else Dry Heave?

You know what doesn’t make me dry heave?  What is guaranteed to make me giddy and giggly?  What always makes me happier than Honey Badger after a rattlesnake inspired nap?  What’s more enjoyable than tonguing down unicorns?

Do you promise not to judge?

Promise again.

Ok fine.  American Idol.

You promised you wouldn’t judge, assholes.

I can’t help it!  I swear to you, twenty minutes into an episode I get face cramps from grinning wider than my shredded vagina will be in 7 short months.  *shudder*

And speaking of judges?  I really thought I’d hate the new ones.  But no, I want to motorboat Stephen Tyler even though by boobs feel like they’re stuffed with barbed wire and lemon juice.  I love it when he gets all creepy and inappropriate with the chick contestants before doing one of his high pitched screeches.  Nay, I LURV it, Interwebz.  Why am I so obsessed with dirty old men?

But can I just get all thirteen year old girl for a second and tell you about my new boyfriend Casey Abrams?  I’ve wanted to exfoliate my lady bits with his beard since his very first audition.  He walked in all scruffy and slouchy and looking like he’d be 2011′s William Hung.  But then?  Sweet mother of Motown, he tore that shit UP.

(You can skip ahead to 1:30 for the actual singing, but I highly recommended sitting through the whole thing for the Jim Henson reference.)

And then?  During Hollywood Week?  When everyone pretends like they have a stylist and they forget their words and explode into balls of tears?  Not my boy.  Nope.  Clad in some head to toe gray frump, he rolled out his upright bass and made my knees weak.

*swoon*

And this?  I don’t think I even have the words for this performance.

*takes long drag of ice water and fans self*

So judge ye all ye want…ye.  What’s not to love about a show that gives a guy that looks like that a chance to sing and play like that?  AND there’s a mess of lewd remarks from a dirty old man who could totally fit J. Lo’s entire ass in his mouth.  This is the best season EVER.

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