The best part of American Idol, the lousy auditions, is here and I’m very excited. As excited as a monkey in a hen house full of other monkeys!

Tonight I am watching exactly what my wife is watching. So I get to sit on the couch instead of sequestering myself away in the lonely computer room. But how can someone really be lonely with thousands of friends on MySpace?

The show starts off with giving itself props by creating superstar after superstar. They’re trying to say “we’re so awesome” without sounding so full of themselves. It didn’t work out so well.

American Idol started out its auditions in my home town of Minneapolis. Jewel is helping is helping judge on this stop. Did you know that Jewel is still releasing albums? Me neither.

The first contestant works at Glamor Shots in the Mall of America. We don’t all work at Glamor Shots in Minnesota, just in case that was your impression. And we don’t all sing terribly, like this girl. But most of us do.

We don’t all cry like babies when we don’t get what we want, and we don’t live in a cloud of delusions. I should compile this wisdom into a book. Dispelling the myths of Minnesota.

I totally butchered The Final Countdown at karaoke a couple weeks ago. It was fun.

It’s great when people keep singing, thinking the judges need to hear one more song. They don’t need to hear one more song. You need you to leave. But thank you for continuing to sing. It is highly entertaining.

Dressing like Apollo Creed is certainly the way to get on American Idol. You mix some chicken broth with that outfit and, baby, you got yourself a stew going.

Charity case time. We have a crack baby auditioning, so she’ll make it through. She thanks God that she was born that way. Which is a little weird. She is also dressed like a prostitute. Which doesn’t seem to hurt her odds.

The The sold their music to an M&M commercial. That’s a little weird. I guess it’s not as bad as Of Montreal letting Outback Steakhouse butcher their song and change around the words.

I don’t know what to say right now. I’m rather shocked by the girl who forgot all the words to Kiss from Prince. How do you remember the lyrics? Pretend you’re wearing your headphones so you look like a mental patient.

The judges are starved for good singers. They just sent a terrible contestant through.

This cowboy here sounds a little like the brother from Napoleon Dynamite. But how does he sing? Like Kip singing Johnny Cash.

Awww dang. Ryan Seacrest just called the Midwest the Midworst. I need to bury myself in a pint of ice cream.

This contestant’s boss from Pasadena flew her up to Minnesota to audition. And she is terrible. That’s fun. The judges think she’s sleeping with her boss.

I can’t believe they’re spending the full two hours in Minneapolis. That’s a bit much, even for me. I actually sleep in a bubble above Minneapolis air space, so it’s not technically Minneapolis.

There is a song called His Eye Is On The Sparrow? That sounds like secret code from Soviet spies meeting at a deli in southern Italy. “April is an odd time to wrap Christmas gifts.” That means the seasons are not what they seem to be. Which means something. I don’t know what.

Peanut butter and chocolate are a fantastic combination. Singing and juggling, not so much. Singing and pretentious jugglers crying because someone made fun of them? Great combination!

Oh no! Randy Jackson just called us Minne-hopeless. I would be surprised to wake up tomorrow and find Minneapolis missing. It is going to disappear in the middle of the night and never be found.

Boy, oh boy, we suck.