Well dress me in sequins, confuse the hell out of Nicole and call me Queen. X Factor.
Duplex – “whydidn’twestartsengentergerther?” Gary’s poor little hobbit brain couldn’t cope with the talking. They were crap, irritating and over bearing. Louis loved them, but saw sense and said no for a change.
Shozod – what???!!!!
Kryztov – what???!!!!
Peter Dubboff – This can’t go on…
Justin Pang – not Beiber, not Timberlake. Buttered up Nicole by giving her a flower, getting a cuddle in return. Expecting a dire performance, but actually amazingly mediocre in a ‘win the local karaoke’ sort of way. Proving that some people sing better with a stiffy.
Sam Callahan – more Nicole perving. More Gary annoying.
Paul Akister – Looks like John Belushi, sounds like a white Cee-Lo Green.
Joseph Whelan – back again using a small child as a human shield. Small child sits on Nicole’s lap.Sam and Justin very jealous. Awful. Nicole willing him on, but honestly, it was like trying to revive a dead parrot. Little boy managed to slip all the judges a hallucinogen to make them vote yes. Why X Factor is what it is. Set up for crushing humiliation in boot camp.
Green Boots – Is this a Peter Kaye wind up? Proving love isn’t only blind, it’s tone deaf. Best friend dries his tears of hilarity on Dermot, who returns the compliment. Pass me the sick bag.
Joanna and Alexandra – make The Cheeky Girls look like musical geniuses.
The Rives Brothers – Dick and Dom of Eastern Europe. Pure shit.
Exaggerate – ‘People fink we’re sisters!’ Mum gives a re-enactment of childbirth.
The Daisy Chains – “Are you gewels sisters?” A triumph of denim over floral leggings. Hannah advised to go alone. Played the perfect Cowell Death Star game by pretending to be faithful whilst desperately trying to drop them like a stone. “We’re a chain that cannot be broken. If one breaks, the rest of us break. Unless I’m more talented. Then you can all f*** off. We’ll stay best friends. They can have 2 free tickets to the X Factor tour. Not backstage though.” Hannah through.
Jason Newland – A cross between Ghostpoet and Bet Lynch. One of those ‘he’s going to be crap no hang on he isn’t’ auditions. Too good for the call centre. Even the one Neville runs in Swansea.
Andrea McGee – oldie singing her own song. Proper musician, so not really right for X Factor. Straight through to Wemberley.
Lorna Simpson – Looks the part, sounds the part. Nail on Cowell Slave.
The Nostalgics – A recipe for disaster. What happened to all those individuals who didn’t form The Rolling Stones, Fleetwood Mac and The Beatles. A progressive rock version of ‘Bring Me Sunshine’ ensued as Dermot scored with a senior hussy on the other side of the doors. They went through. If they make it to the final, they’ll be demanding flowers, a bottle of Jack and nostril toot on their rider by week 8. Either that or Ovaltine.
Til next time.