I just love this time of year! As the first notes of the opening tune hit the airwaves, I fall to the floor and bow in the direction of my T.V as my Chinese takeaway wings it's way to my apartment from round the corner. All Hail the mighty X-Factor, the Diva judges and good old British public who simply refuse to believe that actually don't have the "X" factor at all!
As a counsellor, i should hang my head in shame at the glee that engulfs me as I watch the lastest "talent" disappear into the diva chamber of hell, to be humiliated and guffawed at by a gaggle of giggling judges. I should hang my head in shame - but I just cannot take my eyes off the screen long enough to do so. I'm sorry, but I just adore it. I know most of the victims - sorry, contestants - will walk away dejected, devastated or incandescent with rage at failing to have their looks/style/talent or none of the above noticed by Simon and his crew. And I do genuinely cry with those who are utterly broken by the rejection sometimes delivered with such cruelty but also, at times, with kindness and compassion. I feel for them, I really do. But mostly I sit in a delicious daze with a manic grin frozen across my face as I delight in watching the auditions. Boot camp and the live finals aren't nearly as much fun.
Simon, I have an impassioned plea for you; please let me be a Judge next year. Oh, I want the power so much, I really do. And you almost always agree with me so we could be best buddies and be really mean to the other judges. Please, please, PLEASE. I'm related to Elkie Brookes, so music is in my blood. Whadya mean, who's she? I want the power - I NEED the power. And I'll do it for free, although I have to admit that I'm not exactly a Dannii or Cheryl lookalike.
Oh, one more thing. What's the deal with Lou-Lou? Whilst Simon looks like the cat that got not just his cream but everybody else's where the glam female judges are concerned, Lou-Lou remains distrubingly unaffected by them, Hmm.......