Wave enthusiastically at the contestants and call me Dermot. X Factor.
Look. I’ll be honest. I’ve had one of the best weekends anybody could have, spending yesterday evening watching a rather moving performance of Romeo and Juliet at The Royal Opera House in Covent Garden. Yes, I do like ballet, what about it? Anyway, the added bonus to a wonderful evening in London meant I didn’t get to see X Factor 15. I found the experience rather liberating. There’s something rather nice about tuning into the results show without having to sit through an additional hour or more the evening before. Even if it means having to watch Robin Thicke and Katy Perry, one after the other.
From what I could glean, Kingsland Road had turned into a cul-de-sac and ended up in the sing off. Which meant that tonight’s show was rather redundant, since it could easily be called ‘Who joins Shelley in the Sing Off.”
Poor Justine Lee Collins. She’s not the worst singer, is she, Abi? But she is slightly mad. And slightly old. And slightly overweight. All the classic traits needed for the typically shallow, image led, solipsistic X Factor voter to shun her.
And so it was. Kingsland Close sang a song. I didn’t know what it was. Neither did Lady Barton St Mary.
“I wasn’t really paying much attention,” she murmured, before returning to the internet, where she’s shopping for a new electric fence.
“Pink!” blurted Miss Katherine. “Try!” she continued, relying on Google.
Shelley stepped to the microphone and belted out “Stop”. Very apt.
It all came down to Louis’ decision. Mrs O tried using all her womanly charms to influence Louis. Maybe somebody should tell her she isn’t his type.
And so it came to pass. Shelley got the welly.
Until next week. Maybe.