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March 23, 2006


American Idol? Not This Year
“What a drag!” says bummed out local dude

I’d like to thank everyone that voted for me on Tuesday night’s American Idol; I came in dead last only by 24 or 25 million votes so I don’t feel too bad.

And since Ma, Pa, Uncle Birdy, and Janine were there, it was like a big party.

I shouldn’t have drunk so much amaretto. My stomach is still churning.

I really should have concentrated more on the contest, and more specifically, my song selection.

In retrospect, a reggae version of We Built This City on Rock & Roll probably wasn’t the greatest song, but Paula and Randy said they liked it.

Simon is needlessly mean, though. I did not sound like Danny Bonaduce with an ice pick lodged in his larynx —and the joke’s on you, Simon--I don’t know what a larynx is.

I should have trusted my gut and stuck with my original idea: A reggae version of Eve of Destruction.

I could have worn the American flag shirt that Ma made me. And I'd have done that little dancing march I used to do in seventh grade. That would have had the crowd standing, cheering, and holding up signs with my name in glitter on them.

Instead, it's back home to Inkster, Michigan for me.

What a drag. This sucks, darn it.

Oh, well. At least I can say I gave it my best.

I will be recording my first CD this weekend—live at Ron Durango’s Soft Rock Café over there in Westland. Hope you’ll come out and rock soft with me. Thanks.

A.) Soft Rock Cafe? Great gig, dude.
B.) Paula would totally do you, dude. I could feel it.
C.) Don’t ever quit, man—dreams come true.


hey, I voted for you. Can you introduce me to Paula now like you promised?
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