Here it is, then. Enough of the freaks, losers and oddbods. Time now for the, you know, perfectly normal talented folk.
LOL, whatever! It’s the AGT quarter-finals. In Vegas, baby!
Las Vegas: home to sexually-desperate bachelor parties, the nasty ladies who satisfy their carnal needs and, now, 40 of America’s most talented groups of people to… entertain them? That doesn’t seem quite right. Ah, yes: to send them running and screaming back to Asswipe, Montana while gibbering about singing seniors, precocious juniors, and English talent judges who speak only the language known as “Dribble“.
More details about the whole painful mess of post-auditions week after this little jump.
Some things haven’t changed from the British version of Got Talent.
