The X Factor
There's too much suffering in the world. That said, I'd rather be a polar bear than Björn Ulvaeus from Abba on the X Factor last Saturday (4 October, ITV1) listening to his entire back catalogue being pillaged by those honking, tuneless gorgons.
My theory is that Björn could have been slipped Rohypnol by the researchers to stop him storming the stage during the MacDonald Brothers' version of Fernando yelling "Schttttop! Schttttop! You are killing my songs with your atonal bleating! Dis is worse than Mamma Mia!"
Still, whatever the MacDonalds' crimes, they live another week. As does Ben, thank God, as Britain is crying out for an Andrew Strong from The Commitments sound-a-likey quacking his way through Mustang Sally like someone who's been drinking two-for-one bourbon at a chain-pub balti night.
And, of course, we've still got bloody simpering nicey-nice Leona reverberating her way through each note, looking a lot like Whitney Houston if Whitney had got into Scientology.
Swing-tastic Ray is also still there, getting more orange and oily by the show. Being forced to sing Waterloo by Abba last week didn't set him back, did it? Ooh, no, he just sang Ain't That a Kick in the Head anyway, sticking in odd noodly riff about "Napoleon, ooh! He did surrender! Be-bop, yeah!" while showing off his spats and flipping jazz hands. When he gets kicked out tomorrow, Alton Towers should hire him to chase folk through the haunted house.
Actually, Ray probably won't get kicked out. Clearly, I know nothing. I wrote that little fluffy-haired pop-twinkie Ashley would definitely win, and now he's gone. Saying that, I wrote that Lea would win Big Brother 7. I told everyone Maggot was a safe bet for Celebrity Big Brother. I pity the fool who gets Matt Willis in the I'm a Celebrity office sweepstake as I'm backing him, too. I'm withholding any comment on the group who really have my heart, Eton Road, as I fear I may be jinxed. Ray to win!
Radiotimes
