The Wild Card round was decidedly not wild last night. We sorta knew that Anoop and Jasmine would go through, and Megan Joy wasn't exactly a surprise either. But that last one actually was!

You see, it's the final thirteen this year, as the judges were just so torn over Anoop and the squishy faced crooner Matt Giraud. So it will be eight men and only five women competing for the Idol crown, which Ryan bestows upon the victor in a secret late-night ceremony that takes place in their darkened hotel room. I'm excited about exactly three of the finalists: Allison Irfaglioletta, Little Krissy Allen, and Alexis Pinkhair. The others I could take or leave—Lil' Rounds will belt, Megan Joy and the Roughneck will fold like card tables, Adam will shriek, and Scott will still be blind.

There isn't much to mention about last night's performances, really. They were all just sad mea culpas to the judges, giving them what they'd demanded from the beginning ("You'll be soul, and you'll be pop, and you'll be soul-pop and that's all there is to it.") Of course crazy Tatiana Del Toro acted crazy, this time affecting a new accent and lying to Simon about why she sang her favoritest Whitney Houston song for the 90th time. The judges' selection process was swift and brutal, and some genuine talent was let go. We hardly knew ye, Bubbles St. Cloud (you may know him by his stage name, Ricky Braddy.) Adieu, sweet Jesse Langoustein. I can't say I was disappointed to see Von disappear into the sunset, bellowing his goodbyes, nor, of course, will I miss Tatiana.

All told, a pretty bleak and boring semifinal round this year. All the contestants I felt any vague connection to have been shown the door already, so we're left with hollering white girls, a token black diva, and a bunch of gay guys with fashion chips on their shoulders. Brace yourselves, it's gonna be a pitchy ride.