Call me cold-hearted, but I did experience an element of delighted, albeit mean-spirited, glee during Thursday night’s American Idol elimination show. With the exception of one contestant, I was singularly pleased with the results.  (America, so far you are choosing well.)  Again, with the exception of one. But Thursday nights on FOX are less about eliminations and more about shameless self-promotions, as the strange show proved.

First, props to the producers for listening to me. After I pointed out the disgraceful lack of style and fashion sense among the males, some kind stylist got ahold of them all and put them in perfectly matched black suits. Even their white button-ups were identical. This is what I’ve been saying - if the contestants can’t dress themselves, please someone do it for them. Before they take the stage next time, mmkay?

Not-so-shockingly, Garrett (of the pale skin, 80s fashion and tragically strange curly hair) was the first to go. He was unceremoniously told good-bye right at the start of the show with very little pause or preamble, leading me to believe the poor guy got something in the neighborhood of ten total votes (his immediate family). He got up on stage to remind everyone why they didn’t vote, somehow sounding even worse than he did during Tuesday’s completely uninspired performance. It was genuinely hard to sit through.

Cowgirl Kristy Lee Cook was then quickly brought on stage to be told she was safe, and Amy Davis was immediately ousted. I knew it was going to happen and so did Simon Cowell. You don’t just butcher Connie Frances and live on Idol to tell about it.

Next came a weird break in the action while Idol plugged Randy Jackson’s new album and promised to treat us all to a Paula Abdul performance. I got my pen ready to take notes, fully prepared to laugh myself silly at Abdul on the Idol stage.

Then, the oddest thing happened. They showed us a clip. A clip - are you kidding me? I’m biting my nails down to the nub worrying about Danny Noriega, and you’re plugging a performance that’s been edited and airbrushed? The breakaway shots of Randy Jackson playing bass did have my sides splitting, however, so at least it was good for a few laughs. If only it hadn’t lasted for twelve years, literally sending me into a time warp from which I could not escape for some of the longest five minutes of my life. Egads.  (You can see the video for yourself below.)

Ryan Seacrest even managed to sneak a plug in there for his own radio show. Listen, we all know y’all have projects going on outside of Idol. It’s just that we don’t really care - not when we’re trying to just watch Idol.

After this strange stall, we were taken back to the matter at hand - kicking off the un-Idol worthy. Then, my heart stopped. Raspy-voiced Amanda and lovely Joanne were called to front and center. No! Not one of these girls - eliminate one of the ubiquitous blondes, for goodness sakes! But I was not to have my way. Joanne was voted off, the only elimination I was disappointed with all night long. She sang her song the way she ought to have sung it Wednesday, but sadly it wasn’t enough. The remaining girls were all in tears as Joanne belted.

Next came a much less-upsetting (and predictable) pair - Colton and Chikezie. Again the imp in me glared at the screen - I still have a grudge against Colton. He, too, listened to my advice and for Thursday’s show actually had his hair looking like a normal ‘do. Despite Chikezie’s completely dull Tuesday performance, he remained safe while Colton was ousted. I saw this coming at the end of Hollywood Week - Cowell publicly didn’t want Colton, and the Cowell contingent is strong on Idol. Colton looked much better Thursday than Tuesday, sounded much worse, and had his dream shattered. Honestly, I feel bad for him - but honestly, I really really wanted him voted off last night.

At the end, it was perhaps only mildly upsetting and not at all surprising. The contestants on the show were brought to tears - but somehow I don’t think any of the viewers at home were. That’s the breaks on American Idol - sing to me badly once, and you’ll never get a second chance to hurt my ears. Lookin’ at you, Jason Yeager.