Well, Baby Drescher is gone. Mikalah Gordon just couldn’t sing in tune and made up for it with oceans and oceans of kooky-girl enthusiasm. I knew it was coming and had to agree — and yet — I was sort of sad to see her go. She added a fun sort of tranny sparkle to the show. And one can never have enough of that. Regardless of who is dumped, or how bad they were, I always get teary-eyed and start drinking more — and deeper — into the evening — with these vote-off shows. One thing, Mikalah left like a true champ. She actually looked like she was enjoying herself during her farewell song, smiling and waving at the audience as if the news had been good, as if even the farewell performance wasn’t just plain awful. What an undefeatable little spirit! I think this girl is going to turn up on the TV again. Does Fran Drescher need a little sister?

Was shocked to see Nadia (the girl with the bouncy blond Afro and model-thin bod) in the bottom three — but it was one of those symbolic warnings that the voters unleash from time to time (remember when Fantasia ended up at the bottom of the heap at one point last year?) I think the audience was starting to sense some of Ms. Nadia’s Capricornian hubris and wanted to put it in check. And maybe like me, they didn’t appreciate her efforts to manipulate the viewers when she announced she had dedicated her rather stunning hairdo, a mohawk, to former hairdresser, former Idolette Mario. (PUHLEEZE! That’s kinda like Mary-Kate and Ashley bringing out their own fragrance and dedicating it to “the Tsunami victims!” One thing has nothing to do with the other!)

Anyway, Nadia darling: WORD! What a crashing letdown after your faboo Dusty Springfield green-chiffon-with-scarf moment from last Monday’s show. That was some of the best TV in months. Girl, what happened? Listen, please! — stay the course, I’m counting on you to mess with Texas, Ms. Texas, with her pretty Yellow-Rose-of-Texas blonde mall-girl beauty. Especially now that the tide is shifting and it’s no longer a boys-only competition.

Funny how all the good people were so yawningly bad on Monday night. I mean, Bo, the chunky hippy-haired stud-muffin, bored me to tears. (He obviously didn’t take our advice last week when we told him to start stuffing socks in his basket and show a little cocksure attitude. Some people are just not ready for the Big Time!) Nadia, as mentioned, dropped a big bomb with a pale version of “Time After Time”, which just couldn’t compete with the stirring Cyndie Lauper original. Then there was poor blonde Anthony inching his way closer to Bye-Bye Land.

And what about Anwar? — well Chaka was on the phone to her lawyers right after his last wobbly note hit the air. No matter how his eyes sparkle and how Ryan-Seacrest cute he is, genteel Anwar won’t make it to the top five. Too bad, we so wanted to hear him rap on Hip-Hop Night. Oh, wait, American Idol doens’t do a Hip-Hop Night, or any form of music that isn’t mouldering in formaldehyde for 30 years. Will they do another Neil Sedaka Night this year, do you think? Or will it be the hits of Engelbert Humperdink?

I still can’t take that Jen-Bennet Carrie gal (a.k.a The Yellow Rose of Texas.) Her core seems vapid — “there’s no there there.” Although her vocals were nearly flawless on Monday. Gotta give her props for that. She’s an odd equation. My brain hurts now. But then Simon gave her the kiss of death with his prediction that she would win the competition and have record sales that would "outsell every other idol." At that moment I felt the universe stutter as the Fates froze and began to turn in another direction. Bad juju! Sister from Texas! Bad mojo too!

I’m loving the fat boy, Scott Savol, more and more, and praying with equal fervor that he doesn’t topple over, right before our eyes, with his Russian-doll stage wobbling. Despite all that I was near tears during his “Against All Odds” — one of the most dreadful songs every hatched by Phil Collins, but I’ve watched Scott’s version again and again — maybe fifteen times on TIVO. (Was on my third G&T at that point).

Vonzell, the “other” black girl, was radiant and Phil-Hartman sassy. She’s blooming right before our eyes. Next time she should climb over the desk and just sit her ass down on Simon’s lap. I wanna see something like that happen. I think she’s the only contestant who can really work the lower notes. Maybe Bo, too. But with everyone else, all the air enters a void — they can push the high-end and do the glory notes, but the low-end evades almost all of them.

Homely Bobby-Brown clone Nikko pulled up from the rear Monday — despite a scary Phantom cape and equally bad song. I was impressed with his discipline and the way he held his center. And sexy, snakey Constantine morphed cool and goofy with his Partridge Family tribute. It somehow worked — I like that about him — bringing some kitsch and zing to the show. He’s got a fuck-you air about him — like wearing a Justin Guarini T-shirt a couple of shows back. (Talk about tempting the Fates!) Jessica, the titsy somewhat elderly looking “other” bonde, rocked hard too, on Monday, confirming why she’s in the top ten, and that was good to see (and hear).

Anwar should be the next Idolette to go. I’m bored — bored — bored. His makeup last night made Michael Jackson look like a Mormon girl.