In an attempt to fix the mistakes of last season (booting off Melinda Doolittle, capturing Phil Stacey off his alien world of Narblot 7, allowing Sanjaya Malakar to even sniff the Top 24, making the corpse of Tony Bennett a mentor, letting the contestants sing Rob Thomas songs during Latin Week, filming Haley Scarnato’s face instead of her hot HOT gams, and not keeping the Schlitz away from The Buble), Randy, Paula, Simon and Ryan agreed to sit down and write a list of goals for how the show, and their performances, can be improved in Season Seven.

TheJay.com was lucky enough to get our hands on these goal sheets.

SEACREST, IN!

Dear Solia Flat Iron Company,

THIS! Is Ryan Seacrest! I am writing to you today to complain about the product of yours I purchased last week. I was told that the Solia Pink Limited Edition Flat Iron is the top of the line for flat irons, and that after using it, I could draw right angles with my bangs. This did not turn out the be the case.

I spent close to 17 hours yesterday trying to tease my hair to be perfectly vertical, only to fail miserably at 84 degrees. As a beloved national icon of both radio and television, with an only partially bum-fecal soiled Star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, I find this to be unacceptable. I am expected to maintain a level of grooming that is above and beyond the average man. My tips must be frosted with precision accuracy. My brows must be waxed using a protractor. My eyelashes must be individually separated by a team of German Tactical Performance Artists. My three-day stubble must be so intricately shaved down that you would think me to be a dude without a second glance. My foundation and blush applied to my cheeks and foreheard with the grace of an artist at his peak. And my skin must be tanned to the hue of McConaughey. But most of all, my hair must be flat and it must be ironed and it MUST be flat-ironed! How can I be expected to host a Television Phenomenon with hair that is not exquisitely tousled? Or expertly pieced out by Mr. Vidal Sassoon himself? I ask you that now.

You must understand my plight, good sirs. I am at war with my colleague, the not nice British guy who thinks he knows EVERYTHING (but totally doesn’t), Simon Cowell. He longs to find a reason to question my extreme manliness, and for whatever reason, I am unable to avoid the bait. I must beat him at his own game. I must look SO perfectly awesome that my awesomeness overtakes him. Overtakes him all over his rubable chest. I want him SLATHERED in my awesomeness. And to get ahead with him, or from him, my hair must be flawless.

So I am returning this product to you for a full and complete refund. I thank you for attempting to make me the man I know I can be, and believe that one day you will produce a flat iron that you can be proud of. Until then, I am on a quest. A quest to find the ultimate tool in curly hair prevention. And I will succeed!

Seacrest, out!

Bangarang!