16/10/10 WEEK 2

17 Oct

By CHRIST. After 2 and a half hours worth of adverts (And those bits of X Factor inbetween) I am officially spent. But before I collapse into a heap before my television which for some reason now has Russell Watson adorned across it, whom of which I had mistakenly thought had died of a brain tumour years ago. ANYWAY
X Factor. Superhero music. Normal coloured Cheryl. BLUE. SCREAMING. EVERYONE’S PISSED AT HALF SEVEN ALREADY. Who’s up first then?


Sorry, I just had to ransack the melted pink bits in my frontal lobe to figure out who went first.  This week – that honour goes to Storm. Storm is on a motorbike.  I personally am not convinced he is fully qualified to operate that vehicle. He sings some rock music, because he is a rock singer. Or something. He doesn’t even have an afro. Four pieces of Loreal Elvive coated gristle – does not a hairstyle make. And as we learnt last week – X Factor is a show that is judged on hair alone, so I am thinking he may be in danger. And by ‘may’, I mean definitely. And by ‘danger’ – I mean fucked. After I have reached this conclusion, he then for some reason decides to bring up Bono. *Click*.


Treyc is wearing my friends’ sofa. It looks squeaky. Thankfully, the squeaks do not hinder her performance. She sings Purple Rain, written by Ruth Lorenzo. She’s good, obviously. Because she is always good. The judges think she is good. Because she is good. Her being ‘good’, will only last so long I fear. I can envisage a Katie/Treyc DEADLOCK situation ending in a blood stained Heat Magazine, and my endless tears. Thankfully, Treyc has a vast collection of absorbent dresses so I should be okay. Regarding name spelling – I fear this could be another EOGHDAJSAJNAN issue. Thankfully after a few years of practise, I managed to perfect that one.


Post-Gamu, (Who?) it was Paije who was the publics most anticipated wildcard entry. Yet the X Factor producers seem shot of getting rid of him. Early slots – very obvious song choices. The only thing saving him for me so far is that he embodies THE ENTIRE OF 1992. Gosh it makes me so happy. So much so I used the term ‘gosh’! just then. Did you notice that? Dreadful. Paije sings…a song. As you can imagine. He sings it well – but is it me – or is nobody quite arsed this week? Even Storm forgot to get the crayons out for that Micheal Stipe Batman Pimp thing he had going for him last week. Paije isn’t even wearing primary colours! Just a quite nice blazer. It simply won’t do, Paije!


Bieber’s minions are singing their musical hero KELLY CLARKSON. A classic of our generation of course. I’m sure you all remember http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0339034/ – that. I believe Coppola considered it incredibly underrated for it’s time. Okay, so the little boys sing Kelly Clarkson – lead singer Liam clearly hates all his band members, who all just stand in the background, grinning idly that they are on television whilst he takes the majority of the vocals, with a sanctimonious glance in his eyes that suggests ‘Leon Jackson didn’t have to put up with this shit.’


Or to give her her full name: CHER BACKSTABBING SKINNY ANOREXIC GAMU Lloyd – (Copyright Daily Mail 2010). She is ALSO, lo and behold: singing a song. Apparently it will be part ‘dramatic’ and part ‘cool’. Which means nothing to me. Oh Vienna. She comes on stage wearing 94 pieces of clothing. But thank fuck the primary colours are back. Paije! What did I tell you? She starts warbling something and I’m not entirely sure if a tune is at all necessary – but I let that by because I’m trying to figure out the perpendicular lace panel pattern on her jacket. Suddenly my whole life is rendered pointless and she bursts into a rendition of ‘It’s a Hard Knock Life’ as written by Dr Evil and Minime of course. What. Is. She. Doing. Is this what young people like now? Whatever happened to Linkin Park and Steps? And jungle pants? Forgive me. I’m just a little upset because apparently Simon Cowell has cancelled Music. My friend just asked me why Cher’s musical hero is Annie. I searched through the entire of Homer’s Odyssey – and even he couldn’t give me an answer.


It’s JOHN!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LITERALLY CAN NOT WAIT. Well, I literally can. But John evokes such fire within me, I’ve abandoned logic. JOHN CRIES IN HIS VT. And so does ‘Yvie’  the vocal coach woman. Not sure why? She should take a leaf out of the TreyC Spelling Academy and spell it YivEE. Or something. I have no idea. Now – it’s been about 5 hours since I last saw John(!!!!!!!!!!!!!) perform – and I can safely say I don’t remember one thing about it. However, this was also true 4 hours and 57 minutes ago. It’s such a tragedy, because he’s obviously a very lovely bloke who wants this, and doesn’t want to be a dustbin man anymore – or whatever he does.  I think he’s seriously lacking in lycra. Which brings us neatly on to…


Yes! Leather. Pants. Nylon. TK Maxx. After mysteriously suffering a five minute lapse – I reawaken to see that Diva Fever are about to perform. One of them has a sore throat, and appears to coughing up his left lung in the VT, whilst the other one talks sombrely about glitter I think. They perform another song that I’m pretty sure has just been made up five minutes prior to the show beginning – as it seems to involve the pair yelling precariously placed Gay Icons. Barbara Streisand. Judy Garland. Louis Walsh. Snark Snark.  If anyone was hoping to rewatch Diva Fever at home and would like the lyrics to hand, I thought I’d provide them for you. For a laugh, like.
BARBARA STREISAND/OOH OOOH/OOH/BARBARA STREISAND/YEAH! A man beat boxes. Why are the Diva Fever lads constantly hot by the way? Always fanning themselves in such a blasé manner. And all the dancers are so boiling they’ve stripped down to their skivvies. Does ITV not have air conditioning?


Rebecca is singing Feeling Good – written by X Factor. She sings it well, very poised and classy. She goes off the melody at times doing that drunk Aretha Franklin thing that she likes to do. She’s wearing a big purple thing, so obviously Quality Street is trending on twitter. Not really. Ha. What a joker. She does it well. And dare I say, seems a bit more confident! And wouldn’t you know it – Rebecca agrees with me! She thinks that she has indeed ‘begun’ to come out of her shell. When Dermot questions her further about it, she makes it clear – that she has only STARTED coming out of her shell thus far. By about Week 7, she may have moved into a bigger establishment.


It’s about 1.30 in the morning as I’m typing this – and I just need to quickly point out that I am still reeling from whatever the hell just happened. I have come to the conclusion that John Lennon (Who Aiden is covering) must have haunted the stage, because Aiden freaks the fuck out – and starts making a various array of noises. Sometimes he also sings the lyrics of Jealous Guy by John Lennon too. He looks absolutely terrified and now I’m terrified because he’s made it pretty clear that SOMEONE IS ABOUT TO DIE. He finishes, Dermot performs an exorcism. Dermot O leary performing an exorcism goes something along the lines of this: “You alright buddy you’ll be alright buddy buddy, pal mate buddypal you’re alright?” Aiden mentions ‘that was a bit rubbish’. Are you joking Aiden? WE JUST MADE CONTACT WITH JESUS.


You know how sometimes you wake up, you haven’t had enough sleep – you feel a little rough? Wagner never has days like this. Wagner is sexy 24 hours a day, 364 and a quarter days of the year. He is a raging beastly animal of pure and utter intercourse. Sometimes if you bump into Wagner in the street, you have accidently had sex with him. And if things weren’t erotic enough – Wagner is singing Tom Jones. Obviously. No bongos this week, or inappropiately placed B52s – but GOOD NEWS: PLENTY OF VELVET. And some more sexy women, who are just so enamoured with his presence that they are rubbing themselves furiously just trying to keep up. Unfortunately the charisma of the wild stallion himself has blown a hole in the entire of ITV’s studios. Which vaguely explains the background of Aiden’s performance by the way. Wagner ‘finishes up’ – Simon Cowell says he feels pregnant. He doesn’t say that.


First a quick recap of last week – after my vicious spew of hatred about Katie last week, she kindly was SO crap, that she was placed in the Bottom 2. Which i thought was very considerate of her. She was up against poor old FYD – as you may remember. And let’s not even begin to mention the absolute travesty that was Nicolo being thrown out in such a nonchallant manner. I now understand how people who went through ‘the war’ must feel like. So we were left with one elimination place left –  Katie then made a sad face and sang The Beatles. We all instantly forgave her, of course. Bloody hell. This week she is singing Etta James, and has ditched the kitchen foil disco-gladiator look, and gone for a clean classic style – much like her Bottom 2 performance! Hmm. That Cheryl is a wise one. “Don’t wrap my singers in foil…don’t wrap my singers in foil.’ And it does actually work. Katie sings – more than adequately. Although she still does that vowel-splitting style of singing, because she can’t actually sing, remember. Tabloid offices all light up in glee and return to their D-list tv presenters/soft rock singers roulette wheel to decide who Katie Weissel is sleeping with this week. Vernon Kay, and the drummer from Elbow apparently. Slut.


Ah, good ol’ funky best friend sisters Belle Amie. I can’t wait for their eclectic blend of sassy pop and girly glamour. Two things at once…bloody hell. Cher is probably shitting it.  They are singing – as I’m sure we were all expecting – THE KINKS. Who you may have heard of. Off of the radio, and off of albums and such. The band who effectively created punk have been waiting over 50 years for this. Thankyou, Belle Amie. Thankyou. I think they will absolutely definitely win. I want to find extra adjectives for them to describe their wholesome goodness.


Next up is Tesco Mary! Hurrah! The Self Service queue is running down the aisles, at ‘Tesco, Ireland’ – that’s for sure. I had a very strong feeling that Mary would be singing a bit of Bassey for her performance this evening. But I am wrong – for the first time ever about anything. She is actually singing Dusty Springfield. One of my favourite songs ever too. I’m going to say something rather controversial now. Mary isn’t that great a singer. WOAH NOW. Come on though. She’s just singing very very good songs, surely. She can belt in tune – yes. But I bet she’s not an ALTO-SOPRANO, which apparently is what Leona Lewis is, visiting her Wikipedia page. But meh, what do I know. Standing ovation. Drunken children clap her lots. I will her not to cry. She cries. This better not try and make Disco Week emotional, otherwise I’ll stamp angrily in my thermal socks.


Whether or not Matt sings well right now is a moot point, as ‘Matt Cardle’s Hat’ on Twitter has taken up the entire of my front page. I’m blinded by Hat Anger. That isn’t something that usually happens to me at 10pm on Saturday Night. 10pm! Blimey – what time did we start? 8AM Tuesday Morning, wasn’t it? Has John been on yet?

Matt likes Nirvana by the way. If anyone was wondering. I gathered this from his cardigans and corduroy – it’s like a sense I have for picking out Nirvana fans.  It’s Nirvardar. Oh dear… Moving on.

Everyone in Matt’s VT is devastated by the fact Matt has a high note to sing. When Leona was on the programme, she used to make such notes simply by yawning. In a beautiful G Major Scale, of course. But in X Factor 7 – such notes are unheard of (It’s mostly bongo-based nowadays) and Matt’s turmoil of trying to reach said note seems to have consumed his entire week.  My friend has pointed out that this has happened frequently on the VT’s. People terrified of failure, nobody being entirely sure they’ll be able to cope with singing 3 minutes on television. Listen, if DJ Talent can do it – Matt Cardle can. Oh, and he does. Very well – if you were wondering. Oh he wasn’t wearing his hat either. Which you were wondering.

OKAY THANK CHRIST THAT’S IT. I am physically and emotionally, and spiritually exhausted (AIDEN.) So many bright lights and colour. X Factor has somehow drawn parallels with Gasper Noe’s enter the Void, and I need to go and sit in a dark room for a few hours. But instead, Russell Watson greeted me instead.Hey ho. Goodnight folks. Be good. Don’t listen to John lennon for a few hours either.


4 Responses to “16/10/10 WEEK 2”

  1. Naiad5 October 18, 2010 at 10:13 pm #

    Yep! I made a window for you today.. it was the arched one just in case you were wondering! Watching edited lowlights (and no, am not talking about chinkless Cheryl’s new hair extensions..woohooh she’ll be ginger before the show is out!) means that I don’t have to go through your agony and I therefore admire you all the more for it. In fact I take off Matt Cardle’s and my own various hats to you. OOOH, I just love Fixfactorlandia when it allows Wildean wit such as yours and the other magnificent blog on all matters related to aforementioned circus which we so openly adore, all be they not in the manner which was expected. REALITY SHOWS ARE GO! Goddammit I should not have replied just after watching Cher. Big besos from the place big besos come from y hasta la semana que viene!xx

  2. scribbled_mess October 24, 2010 at 4:21 pm #

    Hello. I discovered your blog via Bitch Factor. Loving your recaps. I am X Factor’s bitch this year so following a shit ton of blogs. It’s a pleasure to add yours to my list.

    Also this: ‘WE JUST MADE CONTACT WITH JESUS.’ is all I’m going to think abt whenever I see Aiden. lol.

    • pleonasticfantastic October 24, 2010 at 4:48 pm #

      thankyooou! Im trying to contact the bitch factor writers to see if they think this is any good : /
      TA though alot, please pass it on yadayada


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