April Winchell

American Midol

That's the name of my new show.

Every month, a group of women come out onstage and demonstrate their PMS symptoms. There's the weeper, the screamer, the one with the mood swings, the overeater . . . really you're only limited by your imagination.

America votes off the women they can tolerate the least, and the winner gets a lifetime suppy of Midol and a pair of sweatpants.

Speaking of sweating, I am trembling with anticipation for tonight's finale. God damn, those boys can sing.

I like Ruben very much, but I'm leaning towards Clay. He sang the living shit out of his songs last night, raising goosebumps on my arms the way only a red-haired, pasty-faced Howdy Doody boy can do. Plus - and I hate to admit this - I think he's sort of . . . I don't know . . . appealing in a very dorky and alarming way. My sister Amber points out that he has extremely large feet, which she thinks may hold a key to Clay's other God given gifts. I'm just saying.

And speaking of gifts, did you happen to notice the wrist watches those boys were wearing last night? You can sort of make them out in the photo above. They're those 5 time zone multi-colored diamond encrusted numbers the B-Boyz are wearing. Aight?

I saw the one on Ruben first, and I remembered it because I read in the Star recently how those watches are the hot thing now with the P Diddy people and the hippity hopper boys.

Then I noticed Clay was wearing one too. They had to have been given to them as gifts for making the final two. That's all I can figure, because they're like $20,000 watches. And I can't see Clay walking into some swanky ass store with that big bobbing Adam's apple and ordering up a pimp daddy time piece.

Although, he is quite the mac now, don't you think? All those girls screaming at his signature slow blink and everything. I saw a photo of him in Us magazine at some autograph signing, and there were a bunch of girls there with his picture taped to their asses. He looked a little scared.

Which brings me to . . .

Roger's Track O' The Week

I'd like to think that in some parallel universe, these two would be the finalists in some bizarre Outsider American Idol, where it didn't matter how badly you sang as long as you were sincere.

First, we have an endearing number by "Demo Woman", entitled, "I'll Always Love You". I like to imagine that the producers made Clay sing this for his finale just to torture him.

Next, here is "Rusty Roads" Rowe, with a twisted but nonetheless reverent gospel song entitled, "I Saw Tears and Sorrow Come 'Til Win". Perhaps it was just an abbreviation of the actual title, but who knows?

If only the producers of American Idol used this for Rueben's finale. They would have paid less on royalties than any song ever aired.

Good luck, and may the best man win!

– Roger