It was a quiet affair for the X Factor extravaganza at Crusty Hall this week. It was all becoming just too exciting and one did not want to appear in a public state of distress if one’s little South Shields stud-muffin was unsuccessful on his journey to super-stardom. As a result, one give all household staff the night off and Chu Me and I sat in the Drawing Room with a small, flavourful array of nibbles and a sufficient supply of gin, tonic and Pere Ventura Cava to last the evening.
The show began and deliriously delicious Dermott took to the stage to set the ball rolling. The judges were introduced.
The boys were smoothly dressed, as they have been most weeks.
Dannniiii Minge (sorry, my keyboard’s sticking) appeared from the back doors like a Roman empress in her flowing dark coloured toga, with her complementary potato waffle earrings and tatty hair.
Cheryl y’-nailed-it Cole scuttled out in an apparent mermaid’s costume, made from the skin of very large silver fish. The poor creature had obviously been caught very recently as it still appeared to have an array of little, black, parasitic tiddlers attached along its length; the majority of them had settled around the bustal expanse (they are unlikely to find much to feed on there, one fears).
Eventually, the final was underway and - as we learned later in the show - this evening, we were going to have the pleasure of three songs from our popstar hopefuls.
First on stage was the lovely Dolly Dagenham. Her first choice of song was one of Crusty’s all time favourites, ‘What a Wonderful World’. One has always thought no one could match the great Louis Armstrong, but one must say one adored the version she gave the viewing public.
Next up, Oily Mares. During the video clip before the performance, we saw Oily going back to his hometown with Simon. They decadently travelled in a big, black chopper. One watched with playful glee as the aircraft tilted to the side for a turn. One smiled at the unlikely event of Oily releasing his mentor’s safety belt and pushing him out of the door (purely for entertainment purposes, you understand!).
His song of choice was the Stevie Wonder classic, ‘Superstition’. A pleasant enough performance and he certainly had a lucky escape at the start of his song when he nearly crashed to the floor as he slipped during his strutting (One thinks a little more oil next time, Chu Me).
Then, one’s heart began pounding underneath one’s bosom as Chu Me poured an ice cold gin and tonic. There could be only one more contestant and indeed, Joe McElderry was next.
One’s little poppet, returned home to our breathtaking region, unfortunately bringing Cheryl back with him. However, this didn’t have an adverse affect and the welcome he received from the waiting crowds was overwhelming. One must admit, even Crusty had tears in her eyes as his grandmother told him how proud she was of him. Even Cheryl was close to tears as she stood in the McElderry kitchen (admittedly one was quite impressed to see her progression from a can and straw to being able to drink from a glass … the only way is up now, dear!)
The lighting was perfect and a dreamy dribble of dry ice rippled over the stage as he chose to sing another of Crusty’s all time favourites; this time from the colossal catalogue of the late, great Luther Vandross, ‘Dance With My Father Again’. An absolutely sublime performance; a mixture of maturity, emotion and crystal clear vocals. ¡Bravísimo cariño!
One was quite undone and feeling very limp by this stage, after such a trilogy of performances, however several olives and a couple of blinis with smoked salmon, sour cream and chives later and one found the strength to continue.
Part two arrived and Cheryl’s aquatic apparel clearly still had a yearning to be near water. As the delicious Dermott got the show underway, she scuttled back to her chair having satisfied her garments need to dangle it’s scaly fins over the water in the toilet bowl.
The order of performance was to be maintained throughout, so first to perform with the secret list of singing superstars (that had already been revealed in the week’s press) was Dolly. With an incredible back drop of throbbing bulbs she began the Nina Simone classic, ‘I’m Feeling Good’. Her performance was quite wonderful and when joined in the middle of the song by the gorgeous Michael Bublé, the end of the song built to a wonderful crescendo and the song was simply electric.
Next, Oily Mares. One must confess he did look rather nice in his dark suit and his turkey legs were certainly concealed by well cut fabric. A happy go lucky performance of that irritating Robbie Williams song, ‘Angels’, with the relaunching superstar in duet mode along side him. Despite having sung the song 9223 times and once in the bath, he managed to miss his cue for entry, but when he corrected himself a adequate karaoke-esque performance was provided (similar to two half-cut friends on a night out on the town and having a bit of a laugh to impress the laydeeeeeez).
One’s stunning little poppet, Joe, was centre stage next and his glorious version of ‘Don’t Let The Sun Go Down On Me’. A lava-licious background on the screens and the golden glow of the lighting only highlighted him as the ingot of precious matter he truly is. Half way through, and time for his superstar introduction … the legend that is George Michael (One squealed at his iconic magnificence). It was as if Crusty was watching a pornographic film without the sex; two delicious specimens of manhood performing in the most thrilling way and almost making one reach for a cigarette afterwards. An utterly fabulous performance!
At this point, one felt one could not take anymore. Chu Me was having to fan one briskly while replenishing one’s beverages and nibbles at the same time (A marvel at multitasking, is he not?). As one began to cool down during the commercial break, part three arrived. Could one take any more?
Stacey appeared at the back of the stage in a short bejewel outfit with short skirt and flared out train. Looking absolutely enchanting, she belted out her Queen homage, ‘Who Wants To Live Forever’. The power from her lungs was such that the resulting blast of air almost caused Dannniiiiii and Simon’s foreheads to wrinkle.
Oily repeated his Tina Turner inspired ‘Fool In Love’. Certainly better than his previous performance, though his vocals at the start were a little shaky. His now seemingly personal dance troupe – the Oily Rags – helped give a tassle-tastic last performance.
After the shaking of an Oily tail-feather, things were brought down to end on a stunning ballad sung by juicy Joe McElderry; ‘Sorry Seems To Be The Hardest Word’. It was an outstanding vocal interpretation, again packed with emotion and soul, so rare in one so young and gorgeous. Three songs delivered with utter perfection.
As the nation reached for the telephone, it was time for a ‘musical’ interlude with the return to stage of Robbie Williams (This time, starting on cue). Then it was results time!
Who was going to be the person to be taken from the competition on this thrilling night?
First through … Oily Mares. One’s heart was pounding as one grasped the well filled drawers of the bow-legged tall boy for support. Then … tick, tick, tick ... Joe!!!! (Good show!!!).
As we said goodbye to the lovely Stacey, Chu Me and I raised a glass of Pere Ventura Cava and toasted her fabulousness. One thinks Dermott said it best, “You’re a proper lady, Stacey!”
She most certainly is, dear! The question is, however, who will be our X Factor King on Sunday night?
Showing posts with label Olly Murs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Olly Murs. Show all posts
Sunday, 13 December 2009
Monday, 7 December 2009
X Factor (week 9) – Crusty Enjoys a Thrilling Semi
The excitement was building within the walls of Crusty Hall. Week 9 (I know it feels infinitely longer than that) of the X Factor competition had reached the Semi-finals. The remaining pop star hopefuls were now to face each other in the musical, gladiatorial arena to win a place in the final.
This week the contestants, again, had to tackle two songs; one from the vast catalogue of the late, great Michael Jackson and the other a song selected by their mentors; a song chosen to woo the public and propel their protégés into next weeks final.
One’s Ballroom was opened - as is now customary – and Chef had prepared a huge array of nourishing nibbles for us all to enjoy. The owners of the village pub, The Badger’s Snatch, were attending; Fanny and Willy O’Dour. In addition, we also had Mr & Mrs Tickles - the owners of the village florist and garden centre, accompanied by their daughter, Tess. It was going to be quite the party!
8pm arrived and the show was underway. Dreamy Dermott appeared from the giant opening at the back of the stage and the audience went wild. He strutted to the side, stood on his mark and introduced the panel of judges.
The gentlemen – Louise and Simon – were well turned out with suit and ties. Danniiii Minge (sorry, my keyboard’s sticking) was swathed in a rather pleasant flowing number. Indeed, the ensemble was 85% acceptable save the rather ugly pair of dreamcatchers hanging from her aural lobes.
One read in the newspapers last week, that Dannniiii had said she was ready to leave the show to start a family with her hunkalicious beau. Normally this would have worried Crusty greatly. Why, only as recent as last year – with the alleged plastic surgery and bollocks in her face …sorry, Botox (thank you, Chu Me) – one always wondered how a nurse delivering the baby would cope with having to look up from her stressed and bloody lady-garden to say, “Congratulations, Miss Minogue, you have a lovely Barbie doll!”
Now that the Bo …tox seems to have diminished, one is happier now that something altogether more human would be blessed upon the glamorous couple, should they decide to breed.
Cheryl y’nailed-it Cole had clearly suffered a crisis back stage with the little black number she had chosen for the show. Now, one is unsure whether stains were involved or just a receding hem line that would run the risk of prime time foof exposure, but Wardrobe were resourceful enough to find a mother and baby out back and managed to whip away it’s soft, pink blanket … wrap it around Cheryl’s waist and use the safety pin to finish the innovative creation behind the left shoulder. An absolutely awful look but resourcefulness must always be applauded.
Delicious Dermott passed to Simon who gushed his thanks to Janet Jackson, who was to perform on the results show and added, “We’re gonna do our best to pay tribute to Michael Jackson tonight.” (one realised it was wise, at that point, not to expect too much).
First to the stage was Oily Mares. The song choice was ‘Can You Feel It’ and we certainly could. As the music started and the men folk were munching into Chef’s melon balls, Fanny and Mrs. Tickles took to the floor and were consumed by the beat.
Crusty, however, was slightly confused – momentarily - when one thought one was watching a video of the village sanatorium’s Christmas party last year. One was convinced it was the institution’s head nurse, Kera Lott, in her white uniform and matching white pumps, dancing on the podium surrounded by her patients. It was then that one looked closed and realised that it was, in fact, Oily. Oh, how one’s guests and I chuckled!
Anyhoo … a quite pleasing performance was given and Fanny was certainly panting bloodhound after enthusiastically shaking her tail feather. The judges comments were good and, of course, Danniiii had to notice him grabbing “his package” (the mucky mare!)
One headed over to the exquisite presentation of nibbles, eager to cut a slice out of Chef’s prawn ring. Just as one picked up the utensil to scoop out a chunk of his delicious crustacean circle , one heard a heavenly chorus emanating from one’s Bang & Olufsen surround sound. It meant only one thing … South Shields stud-muffin Joe McElderry was about to take to the stage.
As he sat at the back of the set to begin his song – ‘She’s Out Of My Life’ - everybody in the ballroom let out a sigh at the sound of his awesome vocals. Immediately, one grabbed Fanny and Chu Me’s dear Tess Tickles and the three of us swayed along with the rhythm of the music. One was so caught up in the emotion of the song, that one deeply wished to find the ‘she’ that had walked away from our poppet and upset him. One would have liked nothing better than to have Chu Me hold her while one slapped her dish.
When he finished, there was rapturous applause and Dickie Tickles declared, “That one’s certainly got the X Factor!” (one could not have agreed more as one wiped a tear of joy from ones cheek!)
After the other judges had given their glowing verdict, Cheryl announced she was speechless … yet her jabbering on, certainly seemed to prove the opposite.
Dolly Dagenham scorched the stage surface next. Her sexy, yet simple outfit, made her appear absolutely stunning and … Goodness me! … Her legs! They went all the way up to the brim of her hat! One did feel that at her key change - towards the end - she did falter slightly but one supposes it was inevitable after Yoda Freidman had her walking across a carousel of dining chairs. We were, however, all agreed that it wasn’t a song to showcase her gorgeous voice even though she sang it very well.
Last on for the Micheal Jackson homage was Danyl Johnson (he who has a penchant for man-biscuit as well as lady-trifle). Poured into a pair of leather pantaloons he sang ‘Man in the Mirror’ with gusto, though one was slightly distracted, not so much by the lonely Polar Bear behind him, more the burning bush and the large dried up crack that came later. How very biblical, one thought!
In the second section, the contestants continued in the same order and Oily took to the stage once more.
Simon had given him the Beatles number, ‘We Can Work It Out’, but with a slightly less catchy and somewhat underwhelming arrangement and, though one was growing more and more incensed by his, “..Life is very short, and there’s no ti-i-i-i-i-i-i-me” nonsense, one was filled with admiration for him as he continued through his performance while suffering some sort of fit, or seizure, across the stage. Bravísimo, dear!
Chu Me tried to convince us Oily was dancing, but we all laughed it off and such a silly suggestion was soon forgotten.
Once again the angelic choral harmonies filled the Ballroom and our South Shields stud-muffin was back. A song that Crusty had heard before but was not completely familiar with but OH … MY … GOD!!! As the sparkles cascaded behind him Fanny, Tess and I screamed and clapped our hands violently. As his crystal clear vocals oscillated around every millimeter of ones epidermis, one felt one was showering naked under a secret waterfall, hidden in the depths of the Amazon jungle. Quite stunning!
Poor Mrs Tickles was transfixed by his performance; so much so, she ended up dropping her crumbly muffin all over the parquet flooring.
The penultimate act was Dolly Dagenham. Stood centre stage in a fabulous frock and looking very Streisand-esque, her lungs blasted out all they could muster for ‘Somewhere’. As the last notes bellowed out of the speakers, one is quite sure one was pushed back three inches by the very might of her diaphragm.
And finally, Danyl. This time singing the well known Whitney the Poo song from Bodyguard, ‘I Have Nothing’. A powerhouse performance, though one did feel he was a little flat at the beginning and only reached pitch once his lungs began to gather momentum and the more powerful lyrics arrived.
Ironically, by the end of the results show, and other than some happy memories, that was exactly what poor Danyl had …Nothing!
Crusty shall miss his smouldering gorgeousness and puppy-dog eyes, but the nation spoke and Crusty certainly feels the right choice was made. Should Danyl wish to escape to a place for some inner contemplation, Crusty Hall is at his disposal and one has asked Chu Me to leave a pair of small, black budgie-smugglers by the indoor pool, on standby.
Incidentally, note to Ms Jackson’s wardrobe department; what on earth were you thinking, dears! A raincoat and a pair of bunny slippers would have been more fetching than that … that …assemblage.
The woman’s an icon for goodness sake, not a lavatory attendant!
This week the contestants, again, had to tackle two songs; one from the vast catalogue of the late, great Michael Jackson and the other a song selected by their mentors; a song chosen to woo the public and propel their protégés into next weeks final.
One’s Ballroom was opened - as is now customary – and Chef had prepared a huge array of nourishing nibbles for us all to enjoy. The owners of the village pub, The Badger’s Snatch, were attending; Fanny and Willy O’Dour. In addition, we also had Mr & Mrs Tickles - the owners of the village florist and garden centre, accompanied by their daughter, Tess. It was going to be quite the party!
8pm arrived and the show was underway. Dreamy Dermott appeared from the giant opening at the back of the stage and the audience went wild. He strutted to the side, stood on his mark and introduced the panel of judges.
The gentlemen – Louise and Simon – were well turned out with suit and ties. Danniiii Minge (sorry, my keyboard’s sticking) was swathed in a rather pleasant flowing number. Indeed, the ensemble was 85% acceptable save the rather ugly pair of dreamcatchers hanging from her aural lobes.
One read in the newspapers last week, that Dannniiii had said she was ready to leave the show to start a family with her hunkalicious beau. Normally this would have worried Crusty greatly. Why, only as recent as last year – with the alleged plastic surgery and bollocks in her face …sorry, Botox (thank you, Chu Me) – one always wondered how a nurse delivering the baby would cope with having to look up from her stressed and bloody lady-garden to say, “Congratulations, Miss Minogue, you have a lovely Barbie doll!”
Now that the Bo …tox seems to have diminished, one is happier now that something altogether more human would be blessed upon the glamorous couple, should they decide to breed.
Cheryl y’nailed-it Cole had clearly suffered a crisis back stage with the little black number she had chosen for the show. Now, one is unsure whether stains were involved or just a receding hem line that would run the risk of prime time foof exposure, but Wardrobe were resourceful enough to find a mother and baby out back and managed to whip away it’s soft, pink blanket … wrap it around Cheryl’s waist and use the safety pin to finish the innovative creation behind the left shoulder. An absolutely awful look but resourcefulness must always be applauded.
Delicious Dermott passed to Simon who gushed his thanks to Janet Jackson, who was to perform on the results show and added, “We’re gonna do our best to pay tribute to Michael Jackson tonight.” (one realised it was wise, at that point, not to expect too much).
First to the stage was Oily Mares. The song choice was ‘Can You Feel It’ and we certainly could. As the music started and the men folk were munching into Chef’s melon balls, Fanny and Mrs. Tickles took to the floor and were consumed by the beat.
Crusty, however, was slightly confused – momentarily - when one thought one was watching a video of the village sanatorium’s Christmas party last year. One was convinced it was the institution’s head nurse, Kera Lott, in her white uniform and matching white pumps, dancing on the podium surrounded by her patients. It was then that one looked closed and realised that it was, in fact, Oily. Oh, how one’s guests and I chuckled!
Anyhoo … a quite pleasing performance was given and Fanny was certainly panting bloodhound after enthusiastically shaking her tail feather. The judges comments were good and, of course, Danniiii had to notice him grabbing “his package” (the mucky mare!)
One headed over to the exquisite presentation of nibbles, eager to cut a slice out of Chef’s prawn ring. Just as one picked up the utensil to scoop out a chunk of his delicious crustacean circle , one heard a heavenly chorus emanating from one’s Bang & Olufsen surround sound. It meant only one thing … South Shields stud-muffin Joe McElderry was about to take to the stage.
As he sat at the back of the set to begin his song – ‘She’s Out Of My Life’ - everybody in the ballroom let out a sigh at the sound of his awesome vocals. Immediately, one grabbed Fanny and Chu Me’s dear Tess Tickles and the three of us swayed along with the rhythm of the music. One was so caught up in the emotion of the song, that one deeply wished to find the ‘she’ that had walked away from our poppet and upset him. One would have liked nothing better than to have Chu Me hold her while one slapped her dish.
When he finished, there was rapturous applause and Dickie Tickles declared, “That one’s certainly got the X Factor!” (one could not have agreed more as one wiped a tear of joy from ones cheek!)
After the other judges had given their glowing verdict, Cheryl announced she was speechless … yet her jabbering on, certainly seemed to prove the opposite.
Dolly Dagenham scorched the stage surface next. Her sexy, yet simple outfit, made her appear absolutely stunning and … Goodness me! … Her legs! They went all the way up to the brim of her hat! One did feel that at her key change - towards the end - she did falter slightly but one supposes it was inevitable after Yoda Freidman had her walking across a carousel of dining chairs. We were, however, all agreed that it wasn’t a song to showcase her gorgeous voice even though she sang it very well.
Last on for the Micheal Jackson homage was Danyl Johnson (he who has a penchant for man-biscuit as well as lady-trifle). Poured into a pair of leather pantaloons he sang ‘Man in the Mirror’ with gusto, though one was slightly distracted, not so much by the lonely Polar Bear behind him, more the burning bush and the large dried up crack that came later. How very biblical, one thought!
In the second section, the contestants continued in the same order and Oily took to the stage once more.
Simon had given him the Beatles number, ‘We Can Work It Out’, but with a slightly less catchy and somewhat underwhelming arrangement and, though one was growing more and more incensed by his, “..Life is very short, and there’s no ti-i-i-i-i-i-i-me” nonsense, one was filled with admiration for him as he continued through his performance while suffering some sort of fit, or seizure, across the stage. Bravísimo, dear!
Chu Me tried to convince us Oily was dancing, but we all laughed it off and such a silly suggestion was soon forgotten.
Once again the angelic choral harmonies filled the Ballroom and our South Shields stud-muffin was back. A song that Crusty had heard before but was not completely familiar with but OH … MY … GOD!!! As the sparkles cascaded behind him Fanny, Tess and I screamed and clapped our hands violently. As his crystal clear vocals oscillated around every millimeter of ones epidermis, one felt one was showering naked under a secret waterfall, hidden in the depths of the Amazon jungle. Quite stunning!
Poor Mrs Tickles was transfixed by his performance; so much so, she ended up dropping her crumbly muffin all over the parquet flooring.
The penultimate act was Dolly Dagenham. Stood centre stage in a fabulous frock and looking very Streisand-esque, her lungs blasted out all they could muster for ‘Somewhere’. As the last notes bellowed out of the speakers, one is quite sure one was pushed back three inches by the very might of her diaphragm.
And finally, Danyl. This time singing the well known Whitney the Poo song from Bodyguard, ‘I Have Nothing’. A powerhouse performance, though one did feel he was a little flat at the beginning and only reached pitch once his lungs began to gather momentum and the more powerful lyrics arrived.
Ironically, by the end of the results show, and other than some happy memories, that was exactly what poor Danyl had …Nothing!
Crusty shall miss his smouldering gorgeousness and puppy-dog eyes, but the nation spoke and Crusty certainly feels the right choice was made. Should Danyl wish to escape to a place for some inner contemplation, Crusty Hall is at his disposal and one has asked Chu Me to leave a pair of small, black budgie-smugglers by the indoor pool, on standby.
Incidentally, note to Ms Jackson’s wardrobe department; what on earth were you thinking, dears! A raincoat and a pair of bunny slippers would have been more fetching than that … that …assemblage.
The woman’s an icon for goodness sake, not a lavatory attendant!
Saturday, 21 November 2009
X Factor (Week 6) - Crusty's Interest Returns?
Having regained a very slight interest in the shenanigans of X Factor following the vicar’s wise words one decided to proceed cautiously and watch Week 6's stage from the comfort of one’s Drawing Room. There was to be no nibbles, Chu Me was in his quarters, watching one of his specialist nature videos and one only had a bottle of the finest Pere Ventura Brut Nature Tresor Cava in an ice-bucket by one’s side for company.
Though Chu Me was not to enjoy the evening with his mistress, he had asked earlier in the day what the theme de jour was. “Queen night.” One had said.
His eyebrows raised as he pointed out that even though controversy reigned, at least there would be an overwhelming feeling of glamour, colour co-ordination, well manicured nails and a delicate hint of Kouros in the air. It was at this juncture that one had to clarify that the evening was actually surrounding a legendary pop group called Queen.
Anyhoo … the show finally started and one forced one’s self to be interested. Queen’s ‘Flash’ blasted out and our judges appeared. Simon comfortably wearing the same outfit he had been wearing the week before, Louise accessorising with a narrow black tie (almost as if he was in mourning for the death of the show’s integrity). Danniiiii Minge (sorry, my keyboard’s sticking) was, for once, dressed quite pleasantly and there were definitely no signs of moth holes in the glittering fabric.
Cheryl y’-nailed-it Cole had clearly confused ‘Flash’ with domestic cleaning duties and had draped a sequined bin bag around her spindles and buffed up her legs to a shimmering shine.
Simon gave a patronising and worthless apology at the storm he had caused the week before, then threw down his gauntlet to Sting after his comments on the karaoke style feel of the show.
Anyhoo … act one was Jamie Aerosmith Archer. Dressed smartly in shiny pantloons, with no sign of table cloths hanging from his rear buttocks and his afro treated to the Cleo Lane treatment, one expected a lot from his performance of ‘Radio Ga Ga’. Sadly, it was not to be and perhaps it was over-confidence but in the quieter moments of the song, hitting the right notes was not something he managed to achieve.
Our little Welsh poppet, Lloyd no-relation-to-Paul Daniels, was to follow Jamie. Yoda Friendman had managed to find a way to get everything inside of him and it certainly made something wonderful happen, as Lloyd’s lungs produced a little extra umph throughout his rendition of ‘Crazy Little Thing Called Love’. Simon wasn’t too impressed and suggested he was like “a puppy in the Grand National” (where as Simon is a knackered old mare in a paddock of young equestrian wonderment).
An injury had occurred during the week for our next turn. It was Oily Mares. He had apparently been fooling around in the gym at the house the contestants share and managed to break a bone in his hand. Though he acted as the perfect gentleman and didn’t say it himself, Crusty knew it was because he had punched the Brothers Grime. As one took a sip of one’s Pere Ventura, one raised one's glass and whispered, “Good show, dear!"
His version of ‘Don't Stop Me Now’ was quite acceptable and even Dannniiiii said it “brought a smoil to moi fice.” (and with the botox involved, dears, that’s quite an accomplishment).
Delicious Dermott (so much more that just a presenter, Ms Walsh!!) then introduced the heavenly Joe McElderry. One grabbed the arm of the sofa with one’s right hand, bit the index finger on one’s left and squealed with excitement as he took to the stage with ‘Somebody to Love’. It was as if he was singing it directly to Crusty and one’s heart was all a pitter-patter.
Louise for some reason was not happy with the choir that was behind Joe, but considering his remaining ‘act’ (though one prefers ‘travesty’) has been drowned out by the volume of their backing singers since the start, everyone else brushed off the old, grey-haired man in the corner and gave more enlightened comments.
Coincidentally, after Ms Walsh’s comments about the choir behind juicy Joe, Satan’s children took to the stage with an entourage of backing singers performing a Vanilla Ice number. Poor Louise confused Movie week with ‘Movies that Louis Walsh Has Seen” and this week he confused Queen week with “Sampled Queen Songs Within Other Artist's Songs”. Sufficed to say the performance was appalling and the only joy one obtained from it was when one of the little dears nearly tripped arse-over-tit when he ripped through the paper back drop at the start.
The fabulous Stacey Solomon glided on to centre stage after our visit to the depths of Hell. This week performing ‘Who Want To Live Forever’ (a personal favourite of Crusty’s). Dressed in a stunning copper coloured dress, she certainly was a conductor of vocal power and as the sparkling light cascaded, like a diamond curtain, behind her one almost thought one’s knicker elastic was about to snap. A triumph!
Smoulderingly, sexy Danyl Johnson was our next course (he who has a penchant for the man-biscuit as well as the lady-trifle) and the song of choice? ‘We Are The Champions’. One must say one enjoyed his performance and certainly the crowd seemed to also.
Though one had watched the evenings proceedings, one still wasn’t back to 100% interested but when the results show came on Sunday one felt stirrings. The final two were Lloyd and Jamie.
For their sing-off songs, Lloyd sang something awful and Jamie gave us ‘The Show Must Go On’ (well, not for you, dear!) for as the show went to deadlock, Jamie was ejected from the competition.
As Simon Cowell’s jaw dropped to the floor like a cowpat splatting to a farmyard floor from its orifice of origin, one squealed with delight and applauded loudly, and do you know poppets, one thinks one has gained one’s interest back again. Quite the result!
As Dermott closed the show, he broke the news that the hideous Mariah Scarey is returning next week. Still, one's interest has been rejuvenated, so let's not allow that to spoil things. There is the blessing that the lovely Susan Boyle is also performing, so maybe she can teach Mariah a little humility.
Though Chu Me was not to enjoy the evening with his mistress, he had asked earlier in the day what the theme de jour was. “Queen night.” One had said.
His eyebrows raised as he pointed out that even though controversy reigned, at least there would be an overwhelming feeling of glamour, colour co-ordination, well manicured nails and a delicate hint of Kouros in the air. It was at this juncture that one had to clarify that the evening was actually surrounding a legendary pop group called Queen.
Anyhoo … the show finally started and one forced one’s self to be interested. Queen’s ‘Flash’ blasted out and our judges appeared. Simon comfortably wearing the same outfit he had been wearing the week before, Louise accessorising with a narrow black tie (almost as if he was in mourning for the death of the show’s integrity). Danniiiii Minge (sorry, my keyboard’s sticking) was, for once, dressed quite pleasantly and there were definitely no signs of moth holes in the glittering fabric.
Cheryl y’-nailed-it Cole had clearly confused ‘Flash’ with domestic cleaning duties and had draped a sequined bin bag around her spindles and buffed up her legs to a shimmering shine.
Simon gave a patronising and worthless apology at the storm he had caused the week before, then threw down his gauntlet to Sting after his comments on the karaoke style feel of the show.
Anyhoo … act one was Jamie Aerosmith Archer. Dressed smartly in shiny pantloons, with no sign of table cloths hanging from his rear buttocks and his afro treated to the Cleo Lane treatment, one expected a lot from his performance of ‘Radio Ga Ga’. Sadly, it was not to be and perhaps it was over-confidence but in the quieter moments of the song, hitting the right notes was not something he managed to achieve.
Our little Welsh poppet, Lloyd no-relation-to-Paul Daniels, was to follow Jamie. Yoda Friendman had managed to find a way to get everything inside of him and it certainly made something wonderful happen, as Lloyd’s lungs produced a little extra umph throughout his rendition of ‘Crazy Little Thing Called Love’. Simon wasn’t too impressed and suggested he was like “a puppy in the Grand National” (where as Simon is a knackered old mare in a paddock of young equestrian wonderment).
An injury had occurred during the week for our next turn. It was Oily Mares. He had apparently been fooling around in the gym at the house the contestants share and managed to break a bone in his hand. Though he acted as the perfect gentleman and didn’t say it himself, Crusty knew it was because he had punched the Brothers Grime. As one took a sip of one’s Pere Ventura, one raised one's glass and whispered, “Good show, dear!"
His version of ‘Don't Stop Me Now’ was quite acceptable and even Dannniiiii said it “brought a smoil to moi fice.” (and with the botox involved, dears, that’s quite an accomplishment).
Delicious Dermott (so much more that just a presenter, Ms Walsh!!) then introduced the heavenly Joe McElderry. One grabbed the arm of the sofa with one’s right hand, bit the index finger on one’s left and squealed with excitement as he took to the stage with ‘Somebody to Love’. It was as if he was singing it directly to Crusty and one’s heart was all a pitter-patter.
Louise for some reason was not happy with the choir that was behind Joe, but considering his remaining ‘act’ (though one prefers ‘travesty’) has been drowned out by the volume of their backing singers since the start, everyone else brushed off the old, grey-haired man in the corner and gave more enlightened comments.
Coincidentally, after Ms Walsh’s comments about the choir behind juicy Joe, Satan’s children took to the stage with an entourage of backing singers performing a Vanilla Ice number. Poor Louise confused Movie week with ‘Movies that Louis Walsh Has Seen” and this week he confused Queen week with “Sampled Queen Songs Within Other Artist's Songs”. Sufficed to say the performance was appalling and the only joy one obtained from it was when one of the little dears nearly tripped arse-over-tit when he ripped through the paper back drop at the start.
The fabulous Stacey Solomon glided on to centre stage after our visit to the depths of Hell. This week performing ‘Who Want To Live Forever’ (a personal favourite of Crusty’s). Dressed in a stunning copper coloured dress, she certainly was a conductor of vocal power and as the sparkling light cascaded, like a diamond curtain, behind her one almost thought one’s knicker elastic was about to snap. A triumph!
Smoulderingly, sexy Danyl Johnson was our next course (he who has a penchant for the man-biscuit as well as the lady-trifle) and the song of choice? ‘We Are The Champions’. One must say one enjoyed his performance and certainly the crowd seemed to also.
Though one had watched the evenings proceedings, one still wasn’t back to 100% interested but when the results show came on Sunday one felt stirrings. The final two were Lloyd and Jamie.
For their sing-off songs, Lloyd sang something awful and Jamie gave us ‘The Show Must Go On’ (well, not for you, dear!) for as the show went to deadlock, Jamie was ejected from the competition.
As Simon Cowell’s jaw dropped to the floor like a cowpat splatting to a farmyard floor from its orifice of origin, one squealed with delight and applauded loudly, and do you know poppets, one thinks one has gained one’s interest back again. Quite the result!
As Dermott closed the show, he broke the news that the hideous Mariah Scarey is returning next week. Still, one's interest has been rejuvenated, so let's not allow that to spoil things. There is the blessing that the lovely Susan Boyle is also performing, so maybe she can teach Mariah a little humility.
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