Every year I try to get out, but it keeps pulling me back in...

Here we are once again in everyone's favourite land at the top of the Faraway Tree - Idol land.

There are some differences - we've lost the Angry Pixie in Kyle Sandilands, for example. The sub from the bench - Mr Watzisname / Jay Dee Springbett - appears to have coped well with a new gig being foisted upon him quicker than you can say 'clause 4.3 gives us the right to terminate your contract Kyle'.

Dicko (Moon Face) and Marcia God (Silky) have come out of the cryogenic deep freezer to join us once more for a turn around the Idol d-floor.

I'm slowly familiarising myself with the singing landscape through the semi-final series. Unfortunately, I missed a few of the earlier episodes when we went around the cities. But that's OK, the same tired recipe continues to be dished up year after year. Key ingredients include:

• Snippets of fat people/ugly people/transvestites/people with three teeth/people who have literally just stepped out of Revolver after a large Sunday sesh - building them up to be Idol hopefuls. Then of course, their delusions of grandeur become suddenly apparent and it turns out they've never sung in their lives except in front of their 15 cats and/or mother who has a monobrow and a hearing aid and they sound like a screeching parakeet being hit by a B-double truck.
• Candidates that come with a 5 to 10 minute back story, where the prospect of suspense is completely eliminated (I mean, are they really going to send a camera man out to film some sheila in Tatura cutting up a pig with her bare hands if she didn't get in the bloody top 100? We are not stupid Channel 10!)
• Sob stories aplenty from the tuneful types - "I'm doing this for (Mum/Aunt Jess/the lady from the tram who smiled at me nicely) because they have helped me believe in myself and regain confidence after I suffered from extreme (depression/anorexia/pain from my ingrown toenail leading to a wedge resection that I even had a general anaesthetic for) and now they are (dead/in hospital/in jail/at home watching this TV show) so I'm doing it for them", complete with the use of three tissues to wipe away that runny mascara. Where the sob story is particularly painful or a 5 out of 5 on the sob-alicious scale - it will be topped off with a there-there, pat-pat hug from the Marcia God.
  
• Minimum or no camera time for the eventual top 12. (At least, Channel 10 realise we'll be watching those initial auditions circa 85 times, so best keep them in the backpocket until at least next week.)
  

Given the above, I was reluctant to rouse from my state of slumber and ennui to once again pay homage to the Idol juggernaut, or at the very least, reach for the remote and change the channel to Channel 10. I guess the prospect of sipping on another year of proverbial dregs was too much to bear. I mean how many times do we hear from Andrew G: This top 100/top 24/top 12/group of singers/talent is better than all previous years.

If it looks like Kyle Sandilands, and it walks like Kyle Sandilands, it's probably not George Clooney, you know what I'm sayin' sista darlin' girlfriend/boyfriend?

After last night though, I have returned to the fruity lexi-licious beveraaaage that is Idol. Too sweet, too cheap and totally overconsumed. But I love it anyway.

And what a semi! Talent check. Tuneless twangs check. Working the stage check. Dancing like a brick check. Self-aggrandising behaviour check. Ridiculous attire check. Marcia not making sense check. Subdued Dicko check. Other guy having no personality to speak of check.

Oh Idol, how I love thee. Now I know that from August to November, you will show me and my friends a good time. Our hearts will go pitter patter, we will go weak at the knees, our palms will get sweaty and we will constantly be thinking about you ravishing us. Take us away on your loveboat Idol!

I shall arrange the performances on a spectrum of meh to hell yeah. There are four groupings:

Toby Moulton + Kate Cook

Toby is a nice guy but, you know, he warbled over the words at times. He barely went for the high notes. O-R-D-I-N-A-R-Y. Sorry - you are nice but you are just soooooo damn ORDINARY. Remember the days of the old school yard? Well don't worry, you'll be going back there soon enough.

I choo-choo-choose you to leave Tobs.

Kate's Mum 'offed' herself when she was a young teen. That is truly sad. However, there can no excuse for that denim disaster that was adorning her thickset thighs. And the hat and the dancing. WTF? Please. I'm sorry. Get off my TV. Go directly back to the farm. Do not pass GO. Do not collect $200.

Kate in 40 years time

A LARGE ENOUGH GAP TO 'MIND'

Seth Drury + Jamila Ioane

Sethy poos is back for another shot at the Idol title. Not bad. Not great. But not bad. Is it just me or does Seth look like BJ from SYTYCD Australia II? He was also a second time lucky kinda guy. And maybe if you drink three bottles of red, tilt your head to one side and squint ever so slightly, Seth looks like Seth from the OC? No? OK then. It is just me.

3 Seths.

Jamila 'Ultramonster' Ioane. Sista girlfriend worked that stage and belted like a 32inch, extra studded belt. But I just find her vibe done, done, done like a piece of steak that has been cooking for the entire length of The Passion of the Christ. Jamila = Paulini = Jessica Mauboy = Emily Williams = Lavina Williams = Serena Williams... the list goes on as long as Gee-.

Raaaaaah

BIGGER GAP WHERE A BRIDGE MAY NEED TO BE BUILT

Stan Walker

Star quality. Even if he does love Jesus and Jesus loves him, I am of the firm opinion that Stan rocks. And let's face it, Christian rock is where all the money is these days anyway. Ching ching. (On that note, if I hear one more rendition of the Kings of Zion, I mean Leon, I will bite the head off a small kitten. You have been warned.)

A CHASM THE SIZE OF TEXAS

Hayley Warner

Hello top 5. Here you come my pretty.

Of the semi, at least.

Let's just see how my predictions play out tonight. I am hopeful.

As for tonight, I can't wait to smoke, I mean watch, sweet Marijana roll up a few grams of her sweetest song.

Tasty.