I want to be your American Idol

I have a dream, to be the next American Idol.

I have a problem. I can't sing. I can yell really loud. Ask my boyfriend, he'll vouch for it.

He heard me singing in the shower and called it cute. A voice only-a-mother-could-love type of thing. I was belting out some Big and Rich country tunes, without carrying a tune.

My favorite part of Idol are the people who can't sing. They are amazing. They are why I watch the show. If William Hung got a record contract, I can too.

I could at least make the blooper roll for wearing a hideous outfit and falling down. I would dress punk rock with a mullet or something.

I am caught between which song to sing. We need to bring back vintage rock. I would sing AC/DC's "Shook me all night long" or Lynyrd Skynyrd's "Sweet Home Alabama" and if I am feeling daring I would sing my signature jazz version of "Air Force Ones" by rapper Nelly.

Maybe then I can join the league of famous people who began as regular citizens. I will get rich off of doing nothing on reality television.

After my failure as an American Idol, I could be invited onto Vh1's "Surreal Life." I would cause drama and singer Steven Tyler or UFC fighter Chuck Liddell would notice me. Possibly propose to me. If am lucky I will be invited to do a comedy show with Roseanne Barr.

Or the whole thing could blow up in my face causing me to be the next K-Fed. I really hope not. I want people to at least like me.

I wonder what Hollywood would shorten my name to. Can-Boot? And if I fall down during an audition, I could be C-Bufooliae. If I marry Steven Tyler, we could be Bou-Ty.

In the end I think I just want to sign an autograph. Until American Idol comes to Washington, I am forced to "sing" in the shower sans an audience.

Candice Boutilier is the Columbia Basin Herald city reporter. She may not sing at work, except for the rare spontaneous outburst of a single song lyric, but she amazes coworkers with her vocal antics, providing hours of mirth.