It's over, Sweet Jeezus it's finally over

After one of the most boring, bizarre and saccharine American Idols' ever, it all came down to a sweet kid from Arizona who could really sing and emote. I got nothing bad to say about Jordin Sparks; she was about the most genuine thing on television. With that said, we're taking bets on how fast public scrutiny and deviant music industry opportunists can soil her. I got $20 on four months, six days.

And speaking of soil, that's practically what I did to myself when they let the pansexual punchline known as Sanjaya and his talentless Idol brethren back on stage to backup the now equally creepy Smokey Robinson; who is obviously partaking in the same Ponce De Leon punch that Little Richard has with his morning screwdriver.

All in all there were no surprises, just a lot of phoned-in performances (minus Green Day's) and inappropriate hyperbolic references obviously written by some junior college creative writing class. It was all pretty much a blur considering that the Cerebral Itch staff turned it into a drinking game slamming a shot every time a Ford motor product graced the screen. We were shit-faced by 8:45.

So adieu American Idol, we'll count the days till next year's shark jumper as well as a fatter Randy, an even less-coherent Paula and a richer Simon. Face it kids, life now works that way.