FlipitTypes TV – Recaps, Gossip, and Trash Talk

On Tuesday night, the sprit of giving was in the air. I breathed it deep into my lungs, voted for LaKisha about fifty times (What? She needed me) and felt really good about myself. I woke up the next day and the positivity had leaked into my personal life so dramatically that by Wednesday night, it was way less fun. I was exhausted from giving. I had tipped the Starbucks guy sixty four cents, the car wash guy a buck. I even resisted throwing my Diet Coke can at a homeless guy’s head when he grabbed my ankle and begged for a sandwich as I left the Subway. I offered him a chip, and he started crying and cursing at me. Whatevs, freak. And you wonder why you’re a crazy homeless dude. Some people just don’t know how to say thank you.

There. I did it. I GAVE. Happy? NO. Tink starts off the show by reminding me that I can call in with donations tonight, I can donate on the internet, by mail, by messenger, by text, by aim. They’ll be sending big white Idol vans into neighborhoods all across America just in case you found some loose change in your couch and didn’t want to waste the postage. The door rings and I’m afraid it’s Nigel coming to make sure I’m not holding out on him. Ah, thank God. It’s just my pizza. I suppose the delivery guy wants a handout too. Ugh. Giving felt good when it was on TV and didn’t cost me anything, but it hurts like Holy Water in the real world. This isn’t church, dammit! This! Is Idol Gives Back! (more…)

This week’s very special episodes of American Idol have been so highly publicized that I actually felt different when I woke up this morning. Optimistic. Grateful. Hopefully, all over the world, people’s hearts are filled with the same charity, understanding, and love that mine is. I have called my Mom to let her know it’s donation season. Thanks, AI! I might just get my rent paid on time this month!

In the director’s booth, Tink stares at the contestants’ faces on the six monitors in front of him. Look long and hard, people, because your votes tonight will not only save one of these kids. They’ll save LIVES. Pull out the Kleenex and get ready to pat yourself on the back, because for two days, you’re gonna be a compassionate person. Whether you like it or not. This. (feeling horns) is Idol Gives Back! (more…)

Today in Trash Talk: Alec Baldwin rips his kid a new one, Disney chains down gay balls, and Knut gets a death threat. (more…)

Tink flies around the kids and asks us if we think our favorite will be safe. Then he stands next to a confused (“we’ve done this before…”) Sanjy and dead pans the audience. Rude! What the hell happened to you, glitter boy? Last night you were the Norma Rae for the tuneless innocents and tonight you’re gonna be a little bitch? Those poor kids in Africa ain’t gettin’ nothin’ from me, and it’s your fault, fairy!

Last night’s veil of sad horns has been lifted and there’s a sense of playfulness again. Country Night stirred up charges of blatant pandering by a teary eyed Timby Cake, criminal insensitivity from Cowell, and insufferable sobriety from Paula. The problem was ever mentioning the awful tragedy on the show in the first place. After all, this isn’t reality! This! Is American Idol! (more…)

Fade up as Tink is slowly lowered to the stage in his darkest suit yet. Uh-oh. No music, no applause. Quiet on set! We’re feelin’ something here! The fairy says the show’s heart goes out to all those affected by the Virginia State Tragedy. Moment of silence. Thanks, Tink. The mood is sad, confused, and angry in the country. I’m glad AI has reminded me of how much life sucks while I’m tryin’ to cheese my crackers and giggle at the jiggles for one hour on a Tuesday Night. You’re givin’ me Katrina next week. Throw in a Marine with a missing leg and just kill me already. Don’t use a national tragedy as a preemptive excuse for the suck factor of Country Night, Nigel. We’re watching because we know Country Night’s gonna suck, and we wouldn’t have it any other way. This is America! And (whisper) this. (beat.) Is Amercian Idol. (more…)

Bill O’Reilly won’t return my calls. I was the best intern I could be, but he has officially dropped me like a hot potato. Being the tricky dick that I am, I got in touch with my good friend Mike Wallace over at 60 Minutes and snagged one final interview.

If finding out Bill’s one nasty SOB is gonna hurt your delicate sensibilities, this exchange might not be in your best interest. Otherwise, feel my pain after the jump! (more…)

When I temped for a large publishing house in New York, I assisted the front desk receptionist, a gal named Debbie. Debbie was like a walking Encyclopedia, she could type over 100 words a minute, and knew every inch of the company, but unfortunately she was busted ugly. Grooming skills weren’t her forte, which shouldn’t matter in this day and age, but as we all know, looks count. Debbie couldn’t understand why she was always being passed up for promotions, so over lunch one day, I suggested she get a makeover. After she stopped crying, I explained to her that a little conditioner and and bit of eyebrow wax could change her whole life. She listened, and showed up the next day looking like a new, hot woman. People who refused to look her in the eye the afternoon before were suddenly forwarding her joke emails, inviting her to happy hour, and calling the front desk just to say hi. Well, come Monday morning, an old woman named Myra was sitting at Debbie’s desk. I asked my boss what happened to my friend, and he rolled his eyes. “That floozy? She’s outta here.”

This week, Top Design taught us that white people are lazy complainers, fags trump hags, and if you want to be taken seriously, don’t be fun. Be functional. (more…)

This recap is already late so I am not going to waste any of your time with my bs (Family wedding. No internet. Kill me please). Latin night sucked it hard, so the producers decided to make tonight’s results show a full hour and fill our head with enough useless filler to make us forget LaKisha’s storm warning of an outfit and Haley Ho’s ping pong debacle. Did it work?

No, but I don’t want to forget those moments. Pop culture disasters are what I live for, and tonight’s episode rained down some doozies. Simon was made fun of by a bunch of poor kids, Jel-Lo stole a dress from Mrs. Roper, and Sanjaya tried to act like a boy. And why shouldn’t he? This is America! And THIS. Is American Idol! (more…)

Latin Night on American Idol is traditionally one of the biggest televised disasters of the year. Katrina beat it back in 2005, but just barely. Each Spring, a new batch of contestants smiles big, puts on their tightest, tackiest outfits and does their darndest, but they always overwhelmingly suck it when it’s time to spice it up. Latin Night is doomed to bomb. Oooh! Look! The cast of Drive! An omen? It stars the guy from Firefly. This is just getting uglier and uglier.

My instincts told me to sit this one out and avoid the headache, but my drunk inner bitch ass intervened and reminded me the path to the headache’s what I live for. Especially when the path is laden with mojitos and homegrown Spanish Fly. I’m not missing my chance to watch a bunch of gordas get ground into a bunch of gorditas! This ain’t Pace Picante Sauce! THIS. Is American Idol! Get a rope! (more…)

One day after eleventh grade I had to help out at my Catholic School’s Church running choir auditions because I got caught ditching PE to smoke some MJ under the bleachers. My job was basically to sign in the old ladies trying out and tell them where the bathroom was. Every single one of them asked. There was one biddy who clicked her tongue every time someone new went into the Chapel to sing. “She doesn’t even know how to hum, how can she sing?” “No one who dresses that trampy is fit to play for the Lord!” “She’s ancient! She’ll be dead before the end of the week.” Hideous.

When it was her turn, I listened at the door. She made my mom’s screechy shower version of “Manic Mondays” sound like a skilled, professional studio recording. When she was done disemboweling Ave Maria, the choir director stood up and said, as kindly as possible, “Margaret, I appreciate your moxy, but I think it’s time you stopped coming back. I just can’t use you.” She ran out of the building sobbing, and I spent some time watching her have a mini-breakdown in the parking lot while I enjoyed a smoke in my car. Wow, detention’s fun!

This week, Top Design taught us to stick to your loud, plastic, tacky guns no matter what, don’t trust someone who tells you it’s all gonna be ok, and you can talk trash all you want, but it doesn’t mean you won’t be taken out with it. (more…)

I was at Starbucks when I first heard the dish. This old dude wandered into an apartment building with a cigarette, fell asleep, and lit himself on fire. Can you imagine? What was an old homeless dude doin’ in some random apartment building choking on vanilla ice cream and starting himself on fire? For a second I thought of his sad charring body, but then I thought to myself, I can’t wait to see who gets kicked off Idol! Weird coincedence, there was a fire at my front door this morning. My room mate was pissed. Crazy, right?

I had it all figured out. The Ho was gonna go, the chunky black chicks were in like Flynn, and the sweet Jester would get a slap on his limp wrist for boring the Queen. Just goes to show you, I don’t know what the hell I’m talking about. But that’s the point! Because this is America! And THIS. Is American Idol! (more…)

When I found out Tony Bennett was Guest Mentoring on tonight’s episode, I immediately felt awful about never being nice to seniors. To make up for it, I invited an old schizo from in front of the 7/11 over. I didn’t let him inside, but I threw chips off the balcony every once in awhile and watched him snap them off the lawn like a goldfish in a bowl. It feels good to be nice. Who knew?

The nutty geezer has made my night’s theme preparations officially complete. I’ve had an early bird special, flipped someone off in traffic, and laid out 6 pre-poured gimlets. This is Old People Music Night! And THIS! Is American Idol! (more…)

Today in Trash Talk: We’re still at war with Iraq, but who cares? A war between two of America’s favorite trash talkers is underway! Open that jar of Vaseline and take off your earrings. O’DonneReilly is ON! (more…)

Calvin wasn’t only gorgeous on the outside, he was the sweetest human being I had ever met. I don’t usually trust nice people. They’re either feeling guilty about something and trying to hide it with thank you cards and kind nods to old people in the street or they’re crazy and they want someone to sit there and listen to them ramble on. Calvin donated his time to actual. Charities. He was an enigma. I waited through seven dates filled with stories of helping out crack babies in South Central and global warming before I went for the full on pass at him.

10:32 We make out. Fireworks. 10:37 He falls asleep with a huge smile on his face and I hightail it out of there with a doggie bag of the dinner he made. Great cook. I felt awful listening to him cry on my voicemail all the next week. Too bad he didn’t spend less time being so sweet to everyone and more time learning to rumble with the big boys. He could have been the one.

This week, Top Design taught us luxury is painful, don’t get cocky til’ you rocky, and nice guys finish fast. (more…)