My American Idol

Ahhh. This feels great. My six weeks in rehab are finally over. I was the only one in my graduating class that was in for an addiction to over-the-counter lactose intolerance pills.
I was so close to relapsing last night, until I turned on the American Idol and was struck by the comments of a young man whose physical appearance I liken to the being that would result if Sideshow Bob ate the offspring of Jack Osborne and Velma from Scooby Doo .

Randy asked Chris Sligh, “Why are you here, man?” To which he responded, “I really want to make David Hasselhoff cry.”

Freaking brilliant.

For the Idol ignorant, The Hoff wept like a little girl at the end of the American Idol season 5 finale. In my critically panned AI finale recap I likened my manliness to that of Mitch Baywatch.

I can’t even begin to describe the feelings that overcame me when I realized there is another artist out there who understands that art is meaningless if Michael Knight Rider’s eyes stay dry. My whole world changed. I could see colors I never new existed. Creative urges rushed through my body like dairy products will now that I’m no longer taking my pills. Life has been breathed back into me. Two Hit Wonder has purpose again. I will not rest until David Hasselhoff cries in the direction of 2HW.

Thanks to Chris Sligh for bringing me back. He’s my American Idol.