For those of you not 'hep' (shout-out to you, mom) to the music of Lauryn Hill, my title for this post stems from her album titled "The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill." Since Megan Corkrey has decided to not let go of the self-indulgence she so blatantly displayed last night, I thought it only fitting to keep in the spirit of things.
Man, that ENTER I just hit to get to this paragraph really has made me realize just how steamed I am at her. It was quite the hard ENTER.
And there it was again. Okay, okay. Oh my, my, my. Where do I begin? I have notes about how cute Kris's sexy face was. I have notes about how confused people must be by Lady Ga Ga. I even have notes about how David Cook's nose tip kept casually grazing the upper portion of his microphone during his pre-recorded performance.
But you know what? I can't even comment on any of those things. My mind is on a one-way track because it has been taken over by the demonic powers of Megan "Joy" Corkrey.
Oh Megan. Where did this miseducation of yourself all go so wrong? Using my psychoanalytic skills, I'm going to guess that it was the day you performed "Rockin' Robin" and did the bird caws. Yes, this seemed to be a continuing theme with you tonight ("Don't forget the caw." "Don't forget the caw." And do I even need to discuss the flying bird caw over to the dreaded silver chair?) I picture you, Megan, in my therapy room, lying on the couch, telling me about the day perhaps a large bird flew above your head and took one, big, gi-nor-mous shat all over your pretty long locks. Could this be the root of your problem, Megan? So the only way you could deal with this memory was by cawing after your "Rockin' Robin" performance? And then once everyone started commenting on your cawing, it became immortalized, and so your next coping mechanism was to become the jokster?
Yes, this must be it. Bringing us to present day when you decide to saucer your eyes out, so that they become as big as Matt Giraud's forehead thing, and you becoming as robotic as Deanna Pappas.
If not a wretched bird incident, I'm going to have to go with my second diagnosis and say this has been the result of fem-bots taking over your body. Yes, this sounds more legit. I do believe you have been possessed by some other life form. I say this, readers, because let me share some of my notes with you that I was taking during the results show:
"Megan has gone off her rocker. I'm worried about what she might do."
It was at this point, as soon as I was done writing those exact words, that my DVR starts going ballistic on me. My notes continue:
"I am convinced my DVR is being possessed by Megan Corkrey and her evil demons."
This went on for quite some time. I thought that if my DVR self-rewound the "Mixed Up and I Think I Like It" Ford music video one more time and that awful Journey group lip-sync again, I would have no other choice but to throw my TV out the window.
"Batteries dead or my DVR has been possessed. Okay this is no longer a joke. I tested my batteries on some other household items, and I know that they work. Be gone demon! Be gone!"
Oh my, it is not until I write these words that my DVR starts working again.
Schew. I am saved.
But were the other Idols scared of their own possible demise? Notice how no one dared do an impersonation of Corkrey during the light-hearted imitation segment. And did anyone else see the way she ordered Kris to stand on his mark when they had to take the stage together? Did anyone else hear a strange noise after Kris was announced as safe and when they showed ol' wifey in the audience? If you missed it, I suggest you rewind. It's like finding an old Disney hidden innuendo; except this time, we have Corkrey putting on some kind of hex.
Well, Megan ultimately says she doesn't care, leaving the judges no other choice but to not care about her. The miseducation continues. So wait, no judge's save, but we still have to be tormented with her singing "Turn Your Lights Down Low" again?!?! It is at this point, Megan has completely turned to the world of the fem-bots, and has decided that the rest of the human world is against her. So what else does she do? Gives us some absolutely ludicrous performance, crawling on the stage, getting fearfully close to a non-amused Simon, and proving that someone who could have possibly been great, has turned into a train wreck right before our very eyes. (Was anyone else having Dennis Rodman/Celebrity Apprentice flashbacks at this point?)
Well, I am officially exhausted. Too tired to even expend my energy on the fact that Allison was in the bottom three again. Too exhausted to comment on how cool Lady Ga Ga's eye zipper was. And too exhausted to even fin . . . oh no, I think I have been drugged by evil fem-bots.