Saturday, 6 December 2014

6.12.14 X-Factor: Penultimate Show


Prelude

It seems that Cheryl Tweedy-Cole-Llandudno-Cinzano has fallen out with Mel B (Scraggy Spice).  The cause of the tiff was supposedly Scraggy's vote to ditch Lauren Platt rather than Stereo Kicks.  How utterly unprofessional of the double-barrelled one.  Yes, Scraggy is without doubt a right pain in the arse (worse even than a silly rose tattoo) and was voting with an ulterior motive rather than honestly.  But I seem to recall that both Scraggy Spice AND Cheryl Fandango-Indeedy were guilty of pathetic voting when they both decided to save Stevi Ritchie, leading to his survival for one extra week.  For Cheryl Ducati-Suzuki now to throw a wobbler simply because she didn't get her own way last weekend shows her to be a right prima donna.




I refuse to call this weekend's palaver a "Semi Final" because it isn't.  There are, in normal circumstances, TWO semi-finals that precede any Final, and the format for X-Factor (and a fair few other competitions) does not work this way. Just because there are four fucking contestants still left in this penultimate show, it does not make it a Semi Final - so let's agree to move on regarding the mislabelled ordeal.

Betting Odds

Ben Haenow - 77/1
The constipation must by now have created a blockage more severe than the one stopping signals reaching the brain of Louis Walsh.  His strained tones are able to ruin most songs, and it is likely he will again create another couple of wailing performances.  The only real nod to a softer approach is when the gravel voice softens mildly, to pea shingle.  This one dimensional performer is about 77th as good as Simon claims he is.  Smug Cowell clearly thinks he has a great chance of winning with Ben.  Sadly he's not entirely wrong, but if an album deal is ever offered, the resultant output would have less allure than Edwina Curry in IACGMOOH.

Andrea Faustini - 16/1
Here we have a likeable chap (well, in very small doses) who has been lent to us by Italy.  He wants so much to "have fun" (the pastime of all contestants and apparently the basis for which they all expect our appreciation, votes and applause) and he loves to sing.  I doubt he'll be up for next year's I'm A Celebrity Get Me Out Of Here, then, because only non-singers like Jake get that chance.  The face-scrunching and gurning is rather off-putting, and there's certainly a bias towards ballads that means we get formulaic performances served to us.  It is therefore essential to listen to him with eyes closed.  Let's all hope that he doesn't win, or Scraggy Spice will never let us hear the end of it, in her northern tones that sap my energy for breathing, and threaten life itself..

Lauren Platt - 22/1
It's likely, despite the odds, that Lauren will leave the competition before the others.  She has a good voice, but as far as any real presence goes, nothing at all.  A nice enough teenager who has progressed well beyond a hairbrush (steady, now) and is conceivably in the peripheral vision, if the papers are to be believed, of a One Direction member [I'm not sure to whom it belongs, though - ha ha!]. Whilst I've nothing against this grounded girl, I can't help thinking that there is simply nothing about her that could be counted as the 'X' which is supposed to be the target of all the efforts over the last twenty or so weeks. Still, her mentor certainly doesn't have the X-Factor, but somehow manages to receive misplaced adulation from thick youngsters.  I refer of course to one Cheryl FourFingers-Viagra.

Fleur East - 4/1
There can surely be no doubt that out of the four remaining contestants, Fleur is the best all round performer, the most polished entertainer, and the most interesting of them.  That's not to say she is without limitations, as her voice most certainly does have limits that are evident when a greater range is called for on some songs.  Nevertheless, it is quite reasonable that she is the favourite.  Smug Cowell will fancy his chances more with her than with Ben, and will gloat like a cunt if Fleur and Ben make up the final two.  I guarantee that Louis will at least once announce to her, "You can sing, you can dance, and you've got to be in the final; people at home, vote Fleur."


Advertisement Feature



I have had to endure this last week the pathetic touting of some piss in a pot, that goes by the name of Stormflower.  Cheryl BluePeter-Daktari has decided that a perfume can be marketed on her behalf, to try and get extra dosh out of the gullible public.  The voice-over states: "Stormflower - the debut fragrance from Cheryl".  The most worrying conclusion is that if this is her 'debut' fragrance, then sure as there's wee in Tweedy, there'll be another pot of piss launched in the future.

I notice that there is no appearance of her full name, and it suits Cheryl Sudoku-Tsunami on this occasion to drop the surname that she is intent on lumbering us with on every other fucking occasion.  For my money, I reckon there's already a perfume that's been around now for some considerable time, which could have had a "Y" added at the end.  Even better, and more accurate, would have been the deletion of a "T" and a "D".




Saturday

My Saturday night started with Strictly Come Dancing at 7:00pm, although Dermotitis O'Dreary told me it was only just starting at 8:00pm.

Fleur

"You look incredible," said Mel B(ollocks) and I yawned.
"I'm sure a lot of people want you for Christmas, dressed like that," said Cheryl.

The truth of the matter is that she has no oomph in her voice, and thus has no real power that makes us feel she's a star.

Lauren

She managed to deliver a formulaic version of a song that did not set the world alight.  Nice enough but certainly no "X" in it.

Whilst the Elf didn't like the song much, Mel said she wanted to see Lauren 'peak'.  Well, suck her clit, then, you pain in the fucking arse!

"That song means so much to so many people blah blah blah," said Cheryl Gestetner-Hitachi.

Ben

"There's less of us here now," said Ben Haenow, avoiding use of "fewer" rather than the incorrect "less".  Oh well, no real surprise that he cannot speak English.

The minute he started singing I decided that the song was cunting bollocks. This was horrendous shit and a travesty!  Cunting crappy shitty awful nightmarish shiiiiiite!  Crap!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  What the cunting FUCK, Simon?  How could you allow this awful mess to proceed?

"You've got the talent," said the Elf, and proved he's a completely useless twat.
"You sang it like a rock star," said Mel.  Arsehole extreme!
"You are one of the nicest guys we've had on this competition," said Cheryl NoCheeseON-HerCracker.  Well that's got cunting NOTHING to do with having the X factor, you moron!

TMWSC: Verdict = AWFUL shite!

As for the contribution from Nonna Rita, Dermot you twat, find someone else to speak to!

Andrea

He went out for an Italian meal during the VT, and we were enlightened regarding his homesickness, and his concern that he is "only one step from the final", yawn yawn yawn."

Stars were shining brightly, according to his singing, and I was instantly bored. Whilst Mrs MWSC seems to think he is a sweet boy who needs adopting, TMWSC thinks he's a boring fucking pain in the arse whose albums would sell only to those with no real taste in music and with money to burn.  "Christ was (apparently) born" some time or other, based on the lyrics.  Yawn yet again.

"That is how to sing a Christmas carol," said the Elf, along with "You have to make the final".
"If I'm being honest, I didn't like it," said Simon, "I absolutely loved it."  You fucking numpty!
"I was holding back tears." said Mel.  Useless git!
Dermotitis said something in Italian, and I wondered which pizza he preferred.

After round one, I am dismayed that these four managed to get to the final.

If all four of the contestants released an album now and the charge was £1 per album, I would buy none of them.  This is a sad state of affairs, proving how utterly pointless the whole process is and how irrelevant the outcome is!

Lauren

She started flat as a pancake, and progressed to a waffle, before adopting a crumpet's position.  The One Direction song was not worth singing in the first place, and she managed to provide a rendition that was as entertaining and acceptable as a piece of junk mail.  The useless offering was sadly confirmation that however likeable she may be, she has not got any X.

"You were born to sing and you're so young," said the Elf.  Twat.

"You sing on point," said Mel.  Stupid arse!  You've missed the point, Mel; you are a waste of space.

"It's easy to forget that everybody else is far more older than you are," said Cheryl KerplunkOr-Jumanji, displaying a complete level of stupidity and a non-grasp of the English language.  TWAT!

Fleur

She proved she is the best performer without a shadow of a doubt. "Everybody vote Fleur," said the Elf.

"You killed it," said Mel.

It was certainly head and shoulders above the other three.

Andrea

"Don't let them shave your beard," said a member of his extended family, via the link to Italy.  I don't think it's about the beard, somehow.  The song choice was horrendous - Wrecking Ball was a dropped bollock!

"You're like the peoples diva,"  said Elf.
"You touch so many people," said Mel B, in some sort of homage to a serial sex offender.

Ben

Hallelujah was served to us and I decided I didn't need the first helping, let alone another portion.  When will X-Factor decide to opt for some decent songs that are new and interesting, rather than the same old stuff that has been doing the rounds for years?  It was over in 90 seconds, but 89 seconds too late.

"We've heard that song so many times before, but you've certainly made it your own," doled out Louis the Elf.

"Up until now you have been a rock God," said Mel, talking complete crap!
"I want to praise you for your journey," said Mel, talking complete crap!

Mel didn't like the song choice, and it was certainly a boring selection for us to devour.  Ben's mumbling and crying was naf as fuck.

So that is that," said Dermot O'Nearly and he slipped into the process of relaying what numbers we need to call for placing votes - obviously irrelevant to me!

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6.12.14 Television Lowlights For This Week




It's the time of the year when the archives are plundered, and literally dozens of 'Christmas' films are dusted off and shoved into the schedules.  No channel does this with more enthusiasm than Channel 5, which started this mad obsession on the FIRST of fucking NOVEMBER!

I see in this week's TV Guide numerous Christmas films, so there is clearly a large supply in stock.  I was mildly amused by the listing for tomorrow afternoon:

12:40 Dear Santa (2011)
2:30 Santa Who? (2000)

Elsewhere this week (on Tuesday) is another well thought through pairing, this time on Film4:

2:45 I Was Monty's Double (1958)
4:50 The Third Man (1949)

My final comment of films is linked to cuntism displayed by ITV (a not uncommon phenomenon) and its laziness in airing yet again a load of Harry Potter films to fill the schedules.  Elsewhere, the cunts in charge [CIC] have decided that James Bond films need to be seen again; I've managed to avoid them for the last few weeks.  As for Harry Potter and the the Dollops of Shit, I will forever be disposed to passing up any opportunity to tune in.

Whilst ITV is shamefully useless with its film selections, it is as ever the BBC that displays the highest levels of cuntism.  Its insistence on ensuring there's a 15 minute overlap of Strictly Come Dancing with X-Factor is pathetic.  What makes things even more difficult is that evasive action on my part, involving a switch to ITV+1 does overcome the problem, but later on leads to another, when the delayed viewing then means I miss fifteen minutes of Match of the Day.  Of course the BBC is so fucking pompous that despite the stupid number of channels in existence now, all paid for by licence payers, there is not a single channel of the "+1" variety, to allow delayed viewing by one hour. The CIC at the BBC clearly think it's beneath them to allow such a development.

The BBC has two channels that are crap; BBC3 shows shite, and BBC4 is determined to offer programmes with the longest names possible.  It is seemingly essential that the majority of programme titles go into rather a lot of detail.  I think there's some some of covert competition between programme makers to try and devise the longest possible names.  Some examples are:

Billy Joel: The Bridge to Russia - A Matter of Trust
Sex and Sensibility: The Allure of Art Nouveau
London: A Tale of Two Cities with Dan Cruikshank
Timewatch: Captain Cook - The Man Behind the Legend
The Rolling Stones Return to Hyde Park: Sweet Summer Sun
Natural World Special: Miracle in the Marshes of Iraq
Dancing Cheek to Cheek: An Intimate History of Dance
Timeshift: All the Fun of the Fair - A History of the British Fairground
Imagine - Rod Stewart: Can't Stop Me Now *

* I think this one would be better without any punctuation at all!

Over on Channel 4 there is the obligatory helping of fat gypsies, to underline the channel's obsession with this theme.  My Big Fat Gypsy Christmas: Tinsel and Tiaras is something to be avoided at all costs.

A cautionary note now for all football fans.  Please be aware that the BBC's FA Cup coverage includes commentary by the diabolical and infuriatingly shit Phil Neville, so you may want to put your TV on 'mute', or watch something else.

Mrs MWSC has just flicked through the Freeview menu, and channel 43 showed a programme called Great Value Jew.  Only upon pressing 'OK' did the full name of the programme appear, and the 'Jew' was an abbreviation for 'Jewellery'.

At 8:00pm on Monday, on Channel 4, Jamie's Cracking Christmas.  "Is he indeed," I wondered, and looked further to see how he'd be doing that. Apparently he's doing no more than "whipping up a selection of dishes", and I was unimpressed with the pun.

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Friday, 5 December 2014

5.12.14 Russell Branded A Twat





At last there has been some proper recognition of the fact that Russell Brand is a hypocrite, is unfunny, and a twat, courtesy of The Sun.  A poll it conducted has thrown up some clear results for our delectation, and they fully endorse my own opinions, as relayed via this blog site.

68% of the UK population think he is a hypocrite
64% of the UK population thinks he is not funny (with a further 15% being unsure)

This horrendous, arrogant, quite horrible individual is far from liked.  Aside from his disgraceful behaviour alongside Jonathan Ross regarding the Andrew Sachs affair, he has managed to display total hypocrisy regarding rents, money and taxation.  Then we have his arrogance and weird view that what he does or says is important.  He believes himself to be intellectual, yet he was this week acknowledged to be one who talks complete bullshit on a frequent basis.  The Plain English Campaign has confirmed he talks gibberish.  He has won the annual Foot In Mouth Award.

Someone ought to tell him that he's NOT England's answer to William Wallace in Braveheart.

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5.12.14 Beyonce Grammy Nominations


Beyonce has surpassed Dolly Parton's record for the number of Grammy nominations.  Well, whoop-de-fuckin-do!




I am not sure that her record breaking nomination is an attractive feat . . . . judge for yourself, though.

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5.12.14 I'm A Celebrity


We are down to the last four, after the departures of Kendra (6th place)  and Tinchy (5th place) today.  I was expecting Kendra to be one of the so-called celebrities to be told to leave, but was hoping Mel would be the other one.



Melanie Sykes

I am afraid that I have tired of Melanie Sykes and her whining voice just as much as the "Eeuuuuu" and "Oh my gaaaarrrrrddd" sounds coming from Kendra every couple of minutes.  Alas I will have to endure her moaning and flustering over things at meal times for at least another day.

I have lost interest in who will win; Edwina Curry, Jake Quickenden, Carl Fogarty and Melanie Sykes can fight it out - hand to hand combat would be good.  A Hunger Games take on things would most certainly boost ratings.

IACGMOOH is set to end this weekend, and that will suit me after the marathon three weeks.  [As an aside, I notice that the abbreviated name is an anagram of I'M A GOOCH.]  After such coverage on ITV, I am due a break from fucking Iceland adverts.

A standard 90 minute serving of IACGMOOH contains no fewer than 5 advert breaks (minimum) and with the sponsor having the chance to annoy us all at the start and end of every break, as well as at the start and end of the programme, we get 12 fucking helpings!  Peter Andre needs to find something to do that does not lead to his presence on screen.

On the point of adverts, and incessant disruption to the broadcast, it is criminal that at some points, there is no more than five-and-a-half minutes of actual show between breaks!  Further, I reviewed the timings on a show this week, with the following findings.

TV schedule showed 90 minutes.
Opening credits = 1 minute
Time lost at the end, ahead of the following programme = 3 minutes
Advert breaks = 24.5 minutes
Competition bollocks = 1 minute
Reminders of the numbers for voting = 2 minutes
Time left for the actual programme = 58.5 minutes, or 65%

So 35% of the show doesn't actually fucking exist!  As for the offer to join in with Iceland Bingo at the very end, WTF?  Surely the company should be concentrating on food; serving up something edible might actually be a better focus.



WTF?  Bingo?

I suspect I will not have the inclination or energy to post anything else regarding the programme.  Other than the fact that the show should be renamed I'm Not A Celebrity But I'm In Here Anyway.

The sister show to IACGMOOH is of course much better than the show itself. The "Now" version on ITV2 provides quite a few laughs, with Joe Swash, Rob Beckett and Laura Whitmore proving an entertaining trio.  Sadly Matt Richardson is thought to be 'funny' by the commissioning editor when he should of course not have had a space on the show for the last few days.


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Wednesday, 3 December 2014

3.12.14 Irritation Defence & Lidl


There is much that serves to irritate, and the incessant dumbing down that has invaded our lives is truly sad.  There is little defence against the onslaught of shit, and certainly none at all from the ill-named shite that I saw on sale in a shop this week, alongside a razor.  The £4.99 was being asked for a box containing a razor and a product from Gillette called Irritation Defense.  I was appalled that this oxymoronic bollocks was being offered while irritating the cuntin fuck out of me!




It may very well be the case that Americans do not opt for the English (original) spelling, and simplify 'defence' so that it is in sync with the adjectival approach ('defensive') but that is irrelevant in the United Kingdom.  I most certainly resisted any urge to take up the offer.  On this rare trip to a Lidl store, I was less than impressed with not just this affront to the English language, but the item alongside it on the shelf.  The "Suddenly Woman 1" was an atrociously named perfume that made me laugh.  In some sort of homage to Chanel, the makers had opted for a numeric qualifier for this product, as if there are numerous other reasons to suddenly become a woman.

The small white box was bypassed of course; anyone purchasing this item would no doubt cause offence (NOT 'offense', please note) to a recipient, suggesting by default that application of the liquid might suddenly feminise, whereas without it, she would be in a state of hormonal disarray, and have sweaty bollocks!  I have just been irritated by this inbuilt spell checking shite that has 'advised' me via a red underline of a misspelling of feminise (there it goes again) and the required 'z' as a replacement for the 's' is most certainly NOT going to be provided by me.  I am British, live in the United Kingdom and both speak and write in English.

I left the store with my purchases, with a final dose of irritation administered by Lidl via the enforced It's A Knockout style game where I tried to field the scanned items at anywhere near the speed at which they were presented (shovelled) on a playing surface the size of a fucking chopping board!  [If you are American, I meant shoveled].  This stupid design is at complete odds with the 4 metre conveyor belt that serves as a runway for the operator to scan and shovel.  I believe that Scan & Shovel should be trademarked by Lidl, as the company clearly wants to make this a feature of its service.  If the twats think I am going to load 63 items from my trolley on to the conveyor, collect (catch) the 63 scanned items and put them back into the trolley, then take them all out again at the bench five feet behind the tills, place them in bags, put them back into the trolley and leave the store then the management at Lidl is stupid.  It is also a fucked system when the items are scanned before the trolley is anywhere near unloaded, because there's instant fucking gridlock!

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Monday, 1 December 2014

1.12.14 A Daft Bet On Roy Keane




It seems there have been some ructions at Aston Villa, and this must surely come as no surprise at all to anyone.  I was so sure that Keane would manage yet again to achieve no longevity in a role that I 'amended' the logo on the shirt he held up to photographers at the press conference last July, when he was appointed assistant to Paul Lambert.  Daftbet was and is so much more appropriate than Dafabet.

So, he couldn't cope at Sunderland after his first season, nor at Ipswich where he managed to do nothing of any use.  ITV experienced his walk-out, and now he's opted out at Aston Villa after some alleged disagreement with senior players.  Of course there's an 'official' line that he cannot combine the No.2 job at AV with the role he shares with Martin O'Neill as manager of the Republic of Ireland.  I think it was all doomed to end badly from the off, and it was daft for anyone to have thought otherwise.

It is just as daft to think that the dual management of the ROI team is sensible, and useful.

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