Well, pretend I’m a superstar and call me Geri. X Factor.
“I’ve had 11 number ones,” said Geri to Gary, looking at him challengingly, which is a bit like bragging that you have 2 GCSEs to Professor Stephen Hawking.
The show set off at a good pace with a boy band, but apparently only one of them could sing and play an instrument, something Gary immediately identified with.
Then there was Melanie, who missed out last year, due to the lack of a decent sob story. She shouted very loudly until Louis cried and the others had to say nice things.
This was followed with five minutes of the mentally ill competitors, including Little and Large, who were much funnier than the act with the same name from the 70s. William then took to the stage and was very adamant he wasn’t called Will.iam for a very good reason. William turned out to be a far better singer but was still rejected.
Then, the real star of Saturday night, Jason. One of X Factor’s great bluffs, where they lead you down the road of potential stalker/tone deaf performer who turns out to be, well, alright. Jason loves Tulisa a lot, but can’t pronounce her name. Mild racist goading ensues.
“It’s TuliSa! TuliSa!” screeches Geri, “it’s ssss, not sshhhh!”
At this juncture, Gary is staring at Geri, thinking, ‘that means you’re sit.’
“TuliSa! TuliSa!” shouts Louis, “her name is pronounced TuliSa!”
“Vagner! Vagner! His name was pronounced Vagner!” the nation shouts back.
As Jason leaves triumphantly, followed in the background by his wife/girlfriend/probation officer, Daizy Dance appears. Do you think that’s her real name? Me neither. I think her real name must be Pauline Precocious.
Next up, the nervous auditions, highlighted by Shaky Chris, who opens his mouth to reveal an amazing voice. The judging panel sit up, suddenly interested. He’s a bit of a nervous Nelly, potentially emotionally unstable, has a dead granddad; he’s 34 years old and lives with his nan. Yes! The new X Factor Schtar! I mean star!
Until tomorrow. Or next week, if I lose the will to live tomorrow.