Last night's Frank Sinatra episode proved befuddling and, at times, infuriating, pretty much the opposite of easy, breezy Mr. Sinatra. Why are the judges the way they are? Why do they say such dumb things?

First it must be mentioned that Harry Connick Jr. was a terrific mentor. Perhaps the best I've seen? It was great when little Aaron "I Was Negative Four When When Harry Met Sally Came Out" Kelly came in for his session and Connick actually gave him, like, musical advice and his little easter egg brain blew out the back of his skull. "Mister is... teaching Aaron? Aaron does not know teaching before..." I'm sure former mentor Miley Stinkvirus was watching somewhere and took a long pull on her Kool extra-long and said "I was better than that, whatever, I've got a fake Australian boyfriend and what does Connick got, huh? Nothin'. Connick's got nothin'. Hey, Lopita, gemme my Funyuns, will ya?"

So that was good! It was good that the kids had a seriously competent mentor this week, because the judges just sucked disco balls. They don't know what the heck they're talkin' about half the time do they? Ellen's off making Connick jokes, Simon's gently rubbing Frank Sinatra's snot rag on his cheek, and Randy's busy plotting his next campaign against Mario and the toadstool peoples. Kara, bizarrely, has said some competent things this season, which makes me sad and want to tear at my face with my claws, because no one is ever supposed to agree with Kara, never ever, it is against God's law, a plague on nature. I think I've been watching this show for too long. Isn't it funny how weird and feral we all get at this point in the competition? We're starving and bug-ridden and we've already killed and eaten so many contestants that we can't even keep their names straight anymore. I probably want Crystal to go home tonight just so I can feel the pain and know that I'm still alive.

The Good
 Speaking of Crystal and stupid judges. She was great. Great! Loved her all dressed up and loved her soft, thoughtful "Summer Wind." (I was pretty sure she was singing about her kid's dad. Did anyone else get that impression?) Ohhh sure her words were a leeetle swallowed in the beginning there, but whatever. But then judges were all "Naw dawg, we like it when you blow, Boomboxer!" Oddly, that's a direct quote... from Kara. They really didn't like it! I know they've been heaping praise on Blisterfix for weeks and weeks and they may feel like they have to temper it, but it just seemed unfair. She's leagues ahead of everyone else and should not be judged in the same way, at all. She should just win and the rest of the competish should be for second place.

Second place should go to... your Cousin Phil Dweezy! Oh gosh he was good, huh? Boy oh boy. He's growing into a fine young man on that stage there, isn't he? Oh, and handsome! The girls are gonna love him. I tell ya, I haven't seen him look that handsome since his senior prom. Remember that? You were a little younger'n him, of course, but you remember we took you to your Aunt Karen's and Uncle Stan's and Phil was there in that tuxedo that he'd picked out himself. It was one of those, oh what do they call it, you know, like something from the '70s... Retro! That's it, right? It was a real retro kinda tuxedo and you know what, he pulled it off. He's always had that little spark of creativity in him I guess. Anyway, he was all excited because he was going to the prom with this real pretty girl, Allison Moorewood. You know, Nancy and Paul's daughter. Nancy and Paul from your Uncle Nick's wedding? You met them, you remember them. I don't know how he swung that date, but he did and he was real nervous about it, but he got himself dressed up real nice. I told your Aunt Karen, I said "Keeks, I think you've got nothin' to worry about." Because, you know, that was after she'd found that marijuana joint in his drawer and he'd stopped doin' well in school and, I dunno. It was just a funk he was in, you know? But he bounced out of it some days, like that prom day. Which meant it wasn't a real deep kinda thing. It's just that age. Just kids that age bein' kids that age, I guess. It's a lot too handle, you know. Just lots of knew things coming atcha and new feelings and emotions and all that stuff. It's pretty exciting, but it can be pretty scary too. Anyway. That's what I thought about, Phil in his retro tuxedo standing outside Karen's house, when I saw your cousin up there last night, in that smart suit, looking very handsome and happy. It's amazing what people can do, isn't it. Just wonderful where people go.

The Bad
 Aieeeyarrghhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!! That is my primal scream for Michael Lynche. I feel like we need to make our own screaming now that the Siobhan Banshee is dead. (Damn you, Van Helsing!) I just cannot stand Michael Lynche! Here's something that we should talk about: wallet chains. Have ya noticed that Big Mike is always wearing a wallet chain? It's his "thing." That and leather jackets with eagles emblazoned on the back. What is he, worried that Rickey Minor is going to pickpocket him? I mean, I've heard stories, but c'mon. You're on live TV! That's not how Rickey plays! Rickey will sneak up on you when you don't suspect it. And no dorky wallet chain is gonna stop him, either.

But Mike's ridiculous fashion (that hat last night! beeelarrghhhhh!!!! and why was every boy wearing vests? why all the vests, everyone?) isn't the real crux of his problem. The real bloodroot of the issue is that he's just such a smug little bastard, isn't he? Just so terribly pleased with himself and his nonsense swagger and his "check me out on iTunes" like he's a real singing star or something. It's just so sad and pathetic because no, Michael Lynche. No. You are not going to be a huge star after this. You may get "gigs" (that is what musicians calls jobs, right? Gigs?) or maybe a random Broadway fill-in roles (Billy Flynn, 2014) but nothing to match the way you ham-hock it around that stage every week. C'mon man, you're embarrassing yourself. AND YOU TOO, JUDGES. Oh man did they weep and slop all over that performance last night. As if "The Way You Look Tonight" isn't a complete gimme. You can't sing "The Way You Look Tonight" and not have it be easy and nice. Because it is an easy and nice song. It wasn't some vocal Olympics that Big Mike had just won, but watching the judges you'd think he had just landed the last note on a broken ankle and then Bela Karolyi ran out and picked him up and there was much rejoicing and it was 1996 all over again and you still had time, still had time to do something with your life that didn't involve watching American Idol for paid work. You'd have thought Mark Spitz himself had descended from sex heaven, where he owns a condo, to bestow chest hair and gold medallions to the entire studio audience. They worshiped at the feet of Big Mike and he picked them all up in his bear hug and we said "Groan" — didn't actually groan, just said the word "groan" — and then it was time to go to bed. Oh Big Mike. You ruiner of evenings. You terrible fool. You are the wallet chain weighing down my heart.

Baby Genius
 Tiny Aaron Kelly washed the gel out of his hair! Wasn't that clever of him? Mind you, he doesn't exactly have a beautiful mane when it's in its purest form, but he at least assured us that he is not in fact a space alien from the planet 1998 who is here to usher in a whole new era of spiky hair flips and boxy Old Navy sweaters with a single stripe running across the top-middle. That was a serious worry there for a while! No instead last night he washed the goop out and put on his mom's Talbot's vest (so many vests!) and sang us a little song about things. He did well, because it was the kind of old-people-pleasing song that he is destined to sing forever on his 2014 Nursing Homez tour. My friend Sarah has a terrible theory that he will not only get to the top three, but that he could win it. Basically he gets to the final three, Crystal effs up and goes home, and then it's Cousin Phil vs. Little Bear. And Little Bear wins. Sarah has successfully predicted every elimination for weeks now, so I fear this newest augury. Not that I want Fievel to go home. I don't want that. But winning? Shivershudder.

I Thought This Was The Top 5...
 ...but no one else performed last night.* Huh. Odd.

No more of this!

*But seriously, who was that crazy lady yelling during Whatshisname's judgment segment? Put her on the show next year, pls.