Put a proper pair of trousers on and call me Dermot. X Factor.
So, the first ritual slaughter round, starting with a traditional slaughtering of a classic song, in this case, Daft Punk’s ‘Get Lucky’. Let’s hope Pharrell Williams wasn’t watching.
Ellie Goulding, in some gold baco foil and little else. One false move and you might see her giblets. Turns out she had tights on and the costume wasn’t as bad as we first thought. Notice how we’re not talking about the actual song she sang? Typical Darth Cowell tactic. I quite like Ellie Goulding’s music, but I spent most of her performance trying to work out how naked she was, which isn’t healthy when you’re old enough to be her dad. What would Greg James say?
Next up was a woman famous for wearing very little but who’s old enough to be my mother. As Dermot said, she’s famous enough to be known by one name, like Prince, Madonna, Marmite or Botox. Cher. Singing her latest single and looking surprisingly human.
“Isn’t she about 70?” asked Master Johnny. Lady BSM and I considered. Pretty much, we decided. She looked younger than us.
“She sounds like a deaf lady,” commented Miss Katherine. We explained it was Cher.
“She looks younger than me, give me the same surgery!” demanded Lady BSM. I considered for a moment, contemplating a wife who looked 30 but may one day suddenly have a botox avalanche and end up as a plastic puddle on the living room carpet.
So, to the sing off. Justine and the contestant who nobody remembers. Her. You know. Erm. Oh yes! Laura! I mean Lorna!
“One Night Only,” bellowed Justine. Lorna had that special look that said ‘holy shit’, before giving her own interpretation of a power ballad.
Sharon abstains, Louis sends home Lorna, Gary Lorna, it’s down to Nicole … Lorna goes. I would give a bit of a tribute, but I honestly can’t remember her. Maybe if she didn’t wash her hair…