Outta Here

My winter sport is now over...American Idol. Since January until now, I have sweated it out in front of the TV every Tuesday and Wednesday. From the beginning, my favorite singer was David Cook…and he finally won. I sure know how to pick a winner. First PaulA and then David Cook. I love the sound of his voice (David’s voice…not to be confused with PaulA’s.) Yo, Yo Dawg Randy likes to say David Cook could sing the telephone book and sound good. I agree...he can sing anything. I'd like to hear him sing the menu at my favorite restaurant. And all the specials too.

The whole notion of voting someone off is very interesting. To be told that you are not good enough…has got to hurt. And then to have to stand there and sing your final song…must be very hard. “We took a vote…and we want you…outta here…pack your bags. Now sing us a song.” It is supposed to be very democratic. After all, it was a vote…fair and square. Sometimes the option of voting someone out…would be a nice option.

We took a vote...and you are the worst golfer on the course...pick up your tee, put your driver back in your golf bag, and drive your cart back to the clubhouse. Outta here.

We took a vote…and you are the least fun at the party…put down your glass, hand over your swizzle stick, and leave the premises. Outta here.

I just hope there isn’t a vote taken in blogworld. I could very well get voted off.

We took a vote…and you received the fewest…erase your blog, sign off the internet, and step away from your computer. Outta here…....katOUT!!!