American Fugdol


I managed to polish off last night’s two-hour Idol finale in about 20 minutes, so chock-a-block was it of cringe-worthy filler. In fact, the only performance I stopped on for longer than ten seconds was the one involving Queen; what can I say, I was practically raised on Queen music. And I think the timing of them dumping Paul Rodgers as a temporary front-man gels perfectly with Adam Lambert losing, so they can just plug him in there and go back on tour. Right? I mean, RIGHT? I’ve been saying all along he belongs in the We Will Rock You cast but being in ACTUAL Queen would be even better.

Seriously: The dude sang with Kiss and had to wear shoulder cages.


[Photo: Look, my camera had been drinking. Yes, that's it. Drinking.]

And he pulled them off with gusto. I may not be the biggest fan of Lambert’s actual voice, but he certainly knows
how to perform music I am interested to WATCH, if not solely HEAR. Adam stood next to Gene Simmons, who was wearing spiked silver armor, and held his own in studded half-globes that look like the frame around which someone’s costume on The Tudors is about to be built. Were Freddie Mercury here, he’d be applauding and then asking Adam if he wants to borrow any of his old jumpsuits.

Speaking of jumpsuits:

[Photo: Sorry. Life is hard sometimes. I did my best.]

LATIFAH, NO. You are a magnificent babe. WHY DID YOU PUT THIS ON YOUR BODY? I wish the picture were better — the Idol cameras seemed to be trying not to hold on her for too long, possibly because they wanted her to look awesome and she just did not. Pulling off a strapless cotton-lycra jumpsuit is hard for anyone, whether or not you add the lone satiny sleeve and the zippers. Pulling one off when you’re a curvy hottie as opposed to an Elle MacPherson-type twig, while singing one of the most boring songs ever written (which I snap-judged based on the ten-second snippet I heard), is just not going to happen. I love you, Queen, and don’t ever change YOURSELF; please just change your clothes. Love your figure as we at GFY do. And also, maybe never sing that song again.

It’s apt that Gossip Girl once had a school choir singing an a capella version of “Glamorous,” because the following performance of that song evoked images of some sort of Gossipcat Girldolls burlesque show:

You have Allison Iraheta in the middle, stuffed into satin bloomers; Alexis Grace on the end, wearing — I wish you could see it better — a sparkly bow glued to the side of her head and plastic pants; you have the girl whose name I can never remember looking fairly sedate in a cute blue dress (look, there’s always ONE Pussycat Doll and made-for-TV Upper East Sider who doesn’t look totally cracked-out); you have Lil Rounds in unflattering white denim and a strapless top that’s in danger of molting; and finally, Megan Joy, wearing psychedelic hot pants, gloves, and leather legwarmers. If Dolls founder Robin Antin guest-starred as the choral director at
Constance Billard, her big year-end musical would involve exactly
this setup, plus a bit more more grinding, spread legs, and fishnets.

Fergie came out quickly and put a stop to all this, taking the stage looking kind of hot until she ripped off her skirt and was revealed to be wearing rubber booty shorts. But I don’t even have a photo of that, because it’s totally irrelevant compared to her other accessory:

Oh, honey. Nice try, but you’re going to need more than Seussian finger hats to best Beyonce’s robot hand.

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