Well, get steamed up in a nightclub and call me Lucy. X-Factor.
Just to let you know, tonight’s blog is being written in the penthouse suite of our 5 star hotel in Barcelona, or as we like to call it, a bed and breakfast in Cumbria.
A couple of things worried me tonight. Dermot was trying a little too much tonight with a couple of backflips. Perhaps he needs to ease up on the Columbian marching powder.
Also, alarmingly, the girl judges appeared to be wearing bright orange lipstick, but then so did Gary and Louis. It turned out the colour on the bed and breakfast telly was buggered. Thank goodness I was aware of this before Rylan appeared and I had the chance to put my sunglasses on.
Here were the highlights:
Christopher Maloney – the second most orange person was being taught to dance by Brian. As my dad used to say, it was like trying to polish a turd. Nanny’s Fairy appeared in a very shiny M&S suit and moved about a bit. Nicole, obviously continuously hungry, compared him to a cheese toastie. ‘You remoind me of Seaside Special,’ said Louis. There’s one for the teenagers.
MK1 – After last week’s debacle, the cute young man Charlie and his Uncle Sim, the Mr Motivator of talking over records, did a ‘mash up,’ which in X-Factor terms means try and sing as many classic dance songs as possible in 2 minutes whilst the audience try and guess what they’re supposed to be singing. To be fair, they were better than last week, with Charlie dressed as Noddy and Sim as a pearly king of grime.
Jahmene – A bad week for the singing android, but I don’t read The Sun so I had no idea what the issues were. The volume on the telly played up a bit at this point, but I think he said that as a youngster he was locked in a room with Whitney Houston, which would have been quite traumatic for a human being, let alone a singing appliance. Jahmene appeared dressed as Pee Wee Herman and his voice chip was a bit off. ‘You remoind me of Ray Charles,’ shouted Louis. I think he meant Lord Charles, the ventriloquist’s dummy. Nicole complimented Jahmene on his balls. Again.
Jade Singlemum also had a bad week, with swollen vocal cords. Gary accompanied her to hospital, even though he isn’t her mentor, but wanted to know whether it was possible to transfer the problem to Rylan. A safe performance, apparently, from a woman forbidden to speak for a week.
Professor James the cut price street performer, had a – guess what? Scenes of the reduced shelf rapper looking very pale and being loaded into an ambulance followed. Nicole rushed to see him once he was out of hospital and fully recovered. “I thought I was going to die,” he told her.
“Well if you did, it would have increased record sales and viewing figures,” she nearly said. “But if you could arrange for an older relative to die, that would increase your chances of winning.”
He gave an amazing rendition of LMFAO’s ‘Sexy and I Know It,’ which I didn’t recognise until he’d finished it. The dancers, dressed in leopard skin, writhed and cavorted around him like a group of Bet Lynch fans with chicken pox. “You’re a revelation with swag, if you know what that means,” said Nicole. No. I’m middle aged. I don’t.
Union J – “There are loads of girls out there screaming for you,” said Louis, “but don’t get distracted.” Very easy for him to say. They sang ‘When Love Takes Over,” with such tight harmonies they sounded like a small football crowd.
Rylan – is taken to the barbers, where a man shaved his beard off and gave him a Grace Jones haircut. Appearing onstage, he looked a bit like Captain Scarlet coming out of the closet. Or Freddie Mercury’s very evil twin. The performance was typically Rylan. “Two words,” said Nicole, “bourgoise.”
No Nicole. That’s one word. Totally crap. That’s two words, Nicole.
Lucy Spraggan, who is known as ‘Spunky’ Spraggan according to Miss Katherine, had been a naughty girl this week. She’d been out to a club drinking and returned to the hotel smashed, with Rylan. Consequently, they were both banned from the hotel, Lucy for vomiting in the lift and Rylan for trying to sing in a built up area.
Kye Sones was in trouble with Gary. “Flat, flat, flat, flat…” said Gary, pointing to a video on his ipad. I thought he was telling Kye the pet names he had for his Take That band members, but it turns out he’s actually sussed out that Kye is a bit ropey. Kye has been hard to write about, mainly because he has the personality of a sideboard. Now we can call him Flat Stanley. His performance playing the piano on top of a massive motorway pile up sent the tone deaf judges into raptures. Nicole said she felt like she was watching Chris Martin. I assume that’s Chris Martin the plumber from Cheltenham, not Chris Martin from Coldplay.
District 9 were up next, claiming they’d forgotten how to let their hair down. To be honest, now they are Cowell slaves, letting their hair down is impossible, what with the special styles that are fixed with waterproof hair sealant approved by the Smug Meister. They had obviously raided The Singing Android’s dressing room and nicked his clothes, since they appeared wearing them. The one with the nice tummy (Dan? Sid? Cecil?) had to endure the horror of having a lithe, attractive, curvy dancer seductively lift his top and caress his… sorry. Distracted by the dancers again.
Ella, Dead Grandad Girl, finished the evening showing the rest of them it was a singing contest, even if the dancing wasn’t great. Last week, Adele tweeted how much she loved Ella, then 10 minutes later, Amy Mottram, boot camp reject, copied Adele’s tweet in the same style.
Until next time.