It’s all over between Simon Cowell and I.
I forgave him his high trousered nonsense.
His obviously waxed ‘top of the chest into the neck’ area.
The aviator specs that were just a tad too reminiscent of Tom Cruise in Top Gun.
Even his insistence in hanging out with Sinitta – beautiful, yet talentless woman who, as far as I can recall ,only ever had one hit and it was called Big Red GTO. GTO? Suggestions please?
Gutwrenching Toe-curling Offal?
Anyhew…..as I watched the X factor unfurl on Saturday night pinned to the lounge carpet with a bag of crisps and a glass – nae bottle – of wine. It
was like going to The Kings Theatre to see Grant Stott as the baddie in the Panto. I ended up shouting Sssssssssssssssssssssssssss! Everytime Simon came on screen.
It was just too damn obvious.
First, each category booted out someone who should have stayed in.
Second the music rose to a crescendo as the damaged and near skeletal girls sobbed as the pressure of the whole thing became too much. I mean how could that be? After all one of them was 16 years old and all of 7 stone – pull yourself together? Em no go home, have a meal, a hot bath, read a book and lead your life. It is too disfunctional to face. I felt myself reaching for the remote.
So today it’s reported Gamu and her family are to be refused their visa and will have to leave the country. Simon protects himself and his show so much do you not think he knew there was a question over the visa? Nothing is left to chance when it comes to the power of that show. I know my Aunt had to sign reams of paper and all she did was audition for Britains Got Talent. (no she is not in Flawless)
So when, not if, one of these wee souls has a breakdown or worse, to even watch it at this stage made me feel like a co-conspirator. An exploitative baddie.
So the papers are full of ‘the twist’. It’s no twist it is just twisted. Planned and executed perfectly to be talked
about, covered in the newspapers, on radio, on television and yup folk like me on blogs. It worked he has done it again. Hookwinked the lot of us. But, and I know he will find it hard to go on after I drop this bombshell. It is over between us. I cannot respect a man who has so little respect for these misguided, impressionable youngsters. Sorry Simon. The invitation to come for Christmas is resinded. I am off to see a good baddie – Grant Stott the nicest baddie in town.