Yes, confession time. I have been hiding a deep, dark secret. A secret shame, if you will. Nobody - until now - outside of the Doombreed household knows about this, my horrible burden. I am almost scared to admit it, knowing that it may prejudice many against me, that many might decide not to continue their friendships with me over this incredibly divisive issue.
I watch American Idol.
There, I said it.
Oh, but it gets worse.
I watched last year, too. I watched. I cheered on Constantine Maroulis, a name I know without having to look it up. I liked Bo Bice. I was upset, but not too much, when Carrie Underwood beat Bo in the final.
Friends, I went to the American Idol tour when it came to Columbus, OH.
I'm watching it this year, too. I'm rooting for Chris Daughtry (because he's good), Katharine McPhee (because she's phwoar as well as being good), Kellie Pickler (ditto), and Taylor Hicks (because, let's face it, the guy's so funny he deserves to win on sheer personality).
Mrs Doombreed likes Ace Young because he's so very talented and nothing whatsoever to do with his smouldering good looks.
Kevin Covais just needs to go away. There's something supremely annoying about him. Same goes for Paris Bennett. Really, the cute gets old after a while.
And Ryan Seacrest needs to get down on his knees and kiss Simon Cowell's butt. Seriously. On camera. Seacrest may think he's funny, but just watch the show and notice how often Cowell is right about which contestants are going home. And that's because he's been in the business for a long time and he's been successful for a long time, because he knows what he's talking about!
Those that know might recall how much I disliked the original British version, Pop Idol, which spawned the phenomenon, but I've got into American Idol, so guilty sin or not, it's no longer my secret shame. And I'm not quitting any time soon.
So, yeah, hail Mary full of grace, ave Maria, in nominus patre, whatever. Pass the remote.