Clay Achin’ to Make Your Mom’s Day

They’re old, fat, white and homophobic, throw their elasticized granny panties and double-D Playtex Cross Your Hearts at the stage and have taken the Greyhound to NYC more than once to catch Spamalot.

Claymates clamor for Clay Aiken, and though the boy still won’t reveal his true self to his masses, he’s shooting his sticky sweetness at them in the form of a Mother’s Day card.

He croons his “On My Way Here,” all shaggy haired and headphoned, in amorous self-promotion, and even if you can’t stomach it, your madre will lap it up. It’s the next best thing to him being there.