Sunday, 16 September 2012

The X Factor

So The X Factor is losing ratings apparently. Simon Cowell's talent search juggernaut has been telling us what Christmas number one to buy since 2004 and suddenly it seems people are less interested than they used to be.
Well, possibly. I think they're just more selective in how they choose to waste two hours of their life each week.
Personally i record it, zip through all the sob stories, the scenes in which pensioners are condescended to, the judges' back stage eating things and the shots of the wannabe stars as kids filmed at their Auntie Beryl's birthday murdering a Mariah Carey track.
That leaves a cosy 10 minutes of music, or eight if you count how mich was featured in one show.
As i have better things to do with my life, like getting rid of toilet limescale with weapons grade bleach, The X Factor cut down suits me just fine.
However, if Steve Brookstein returned, i'd watch that in its entirety.
Easily the most interesting winner because he bumbled his way through the finale and did a vanishing act worthy of a stealth fighter.
The X Factor: take a bow. You've made cleaning the loo a more rewarding Saturday night experience.

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