There are reality shows and then there are reality show that your girlfriend will make you watch. Sounds like torture? It doesn’t have to be…

I’m not sure what to make of “American Idol.” With only 100 contestants left, most of the people I hate have been sent home. And since I’m incapable of love, I feel empty and alone, much like the 50 losers from last night’s “solo night” show.

Last night was “group night” on “American Idol,” which is much less exciting than it sounds to an Internet-porn addict, like myself. Never the less, I watched all two hours of the program in order to describe it in detail to you, the reader. Congrats.

By it’s very nature, Hollywood Week isn’t as fun to watch. Almost, everyone who has made it to this point can sing, so there are no sad, pathetic people to mock and ridicule. As such, we have to settle for the next best thing: reveling in the failure of those who are more talented than us.

Last night was the final episode of the “American Idol” auditions, and what better way to end this sh#t show than with a fart. No, really. The show began with a teary-eyed girl complaining that the judges wouldn’t let her finish after she ripped ass.

Those sons of b#tches at “American Idol” finally broke down and put a crazy homeless dude on national television for everyone to laugh at.

Highlights included a seven-foot-tall armadillo, a fat guy who looked like a live-action version of Cleveland Brown’s son, and a girl in a Viking outfit (or maybe it was Hermes, but honestly, who cares).

Tonight, the T.V. gods were merciful, and the Nashville edition of “American Idol” was only an hour long. But despite the more manageable length, it still managed to leave me feeling sore and violated.

Milwaukee native and former Idol contestant Danny Gokey was on hand to give false hope to delusional contestants. And if you’re looking for delusional people, a Rustbelt city like Milwaukee does not disappoint.

While the season premiere of “American Idol” was disappointing, the second episode (New Orleans) started out strong. By “strong,” I mean it began with a gay dude named Blake Patterson playing the piano and sobbing uncontrollably.

I hate “American Idol.” But, I made one innocent comment about the size of my editor’s wife’s ass, and now I’m stuck on recap duty.

If I’m going to be forced to watch, I might as well make some predictions. If any of them come true, I’ll look like a genius. If not, no one will give a damn. So here’s my timeline of what you’ll see during tonight’s broadcast.