Archuleta!

My new favorite profane explanation. Lost your hair in a curling iron malfuntion? Archuleta! Faxed your income tax returns to your mother in law? Archuleta!

I cannot STAND the little wanker. I have promised to Dr. Boy that I would not go into my opinions on the creepy, robotic, crazy-religious, questionable sexuality in his performances. I will only say that singing a song about angels visiting you in bed when you're a 17 year old Mormon creeps me out. And, that he giggles when Seacrest touches his arm.

I. CAN'T. STAND. HIM.

If you love me, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ vote on Tuesday to kick him off.

I just want to squeeze him til his little head pops off. Or he opens his eyes.

Archuleta!