The Facebook Factor

I protest that Facebook is ruining almost every aspect of every normal person’s life. Facebook has ruined socialising for 500 million people as their entire life is now planned around Facebook. Facebook is a way of spreading hate for one person over the entire world; like Cat Bin Lady. Facebook ruins TV, with most adverts and programs having an official Facebook page where people can post live comments. Facebook ruins the radio with presenters endlessly plugging their Facebook page for their show or radio station. Facebook now vows to ruin music in a more destructive way than when Katie Price tried her hand at singing. Users of Facebook, through the power of 'Likes', campaign to end The X factor's grip of the UK Singles chart; particularly at Christmas.

I'm not the biggest fan of The X Factor. I will watch it if I'm home and there is nothing else on TV (so that was most weeks). I watch it more to laugh at and definitely not to enjoy a few hours of perfectly pitched singing. This year, The X Factor had all the usual ingredients which it has every other year, apart from Pregnancy and Malaria; those were added seasoning. We had the auditions which consisted of a mixed bag of talent. It had those that were truly terrible, who were laughed at and mocked like a dancing bear with a nose stud. It also had those who were amazingly average, who everyone cheered and clapped at and also got praise from all the judges.

It had fights and scuffles which are normally directed at the judges, but this time it was a double act of teenage hippopotamuses that turned on each other. It also had the acts that were there just for the comedy value that it added to the show, and caused great publicity. That roll fell to Wagner (Pronounced 'Varg-ner') who was a retired Brazilian P.E. Teacher (Pronounced 'Per-vert') who seemed to be giving a monologue, in a slightly camp German accent to the tune of music, while dancers twirled around him. Essentially, just think Jedward in 50 years, after one of them got murdered by someone baring Jedward's debut album as a weapon.

Those two lovely girls I was just telling you about...

Wagner. What else do I need to say?

It had over exaggerated bitchiness between the judges too; mostly directed at poor Louis Walsh. Dannii Minogue regularly retorted to any criticism Louis had for Dannii's acts. Simon Cowell would scowl judgingly at any chance he got, as if Louis had just taken off all of his clothes and had put his pants on his head while singing a Westlife song. Then Cheryl Cole would look puppy-eyed at Simon, begging for praise after every song and have a paddy every time he said something negative. Just like every year.

The X Factor also had a selection of other singers who were not Wagner. Most of them were average. The type of singers you find drunk over a karaoke machine in a pub, screaming 'Angels'. Most of them I can't actually remember their names, but then I suppose that is because I have stored more important information in my head. You know, like the capital of Costa Rica being San Jose, where I left my car keys or how much cheese we have left in the fridge; you know, the important stuff.

I know that the final consisted of four acts: Cher Lloyd came fourth and she was a teenage girl with a dream. A dream to sing. She made this known all the time, thus why everyone thought of her as this cocky little girl. She wanted to be more of a hip hop, R&B singer, so she had no chance of winning a pop contest. A band of hairless monkeys called One Direction came third, and these were Simon's little clones. He wanted them to win. His face was a picture when they went out. A Geordie woman came second, who was a spectacularly average singer, who was actually quite nasally and the only person who could understand her was Cheryl.

The winner, and holder of Christmas Number One 2010, was a bloke called Matt Cardle. He was a painter and decorator who liked wearing flat caps. Incidentally, if you had him booked to paint your lounge in the New Year, I would consider finding yourself someone else - I don't think he will be turning up. He was the best of a bad bunch in my opinion; above average, but not exactly the best singer you will ever hear. His single was a cover of Biffy Clyro's song 'Many A Horror', which Simon Cowell decided to rename 'When We Collide' for reasons which are obvious to absolutely no-one.

Here is your champion!

So, another Christmas, and another Christmas Number One which is in no way related to Christmas. A shame, but I'm not particularly bothered. Last year had the overly popularised Facebook campaign to get Rage Against The Machine to be Christmas Number One, in protest of Simon Cowell stubbornness. They managed it and Joe McElderry never got the Festive Chart Position he aimed for. This year saw two Facebook Campaigns. One was to get the original Biffy Clyro song to the glorious chart position. They managed 8th. A second campaign was to get 'The Bird Is The Word', a song shoved into the modern public domain by Family Guy, to lead the chart. This managed 3rd. It seems the Facebook campaigns didn't work this year; or as Facebook users might put it - It was an Epic Fail.

The worst protest against The X Factor was 'Cage Against The Machine', which was essential a group of a few dozen so-called 'real rockers', crowding into a tiny room to shuffle about and recreate John Cage's 4'33" – or other words – silence. This got to 21 in the Chart. This shambolic revolution was led by many people, but most notably Pete Doherty.

Now, I think it would have been better to put together a real Christmas song. You know, one with lyrics and instruments that is original, and not an incredibly vain attempt to be a bit of a profanity.

In the words of Kirsty MacColl "You Scumbag, You Maggot, You cheap lousy Faggot", go write a decent Christmas song next year, instead of sitting behind your iPad and complaining about The X Factor being Number 1 again.

Jade Goody: What A Smashing Year It Has Been Without Her!

It was a year ago today that Jade Goody went through those fiery gates of hell, with the molten lava flooding past her and the aroma of burnt sausages wafting around the place. I have a visual image of Hitler and Suddam Hussien holding a banner which says 'Welcome Jade Goody' at the entrance to hell, with the devil there himself, to personally welcome in his newest member to his community. With it being a Sunday, he would usually be taking a well-deserved break after a week of torturing, but after hearing about the work that this 'Goody' person had done above on Earth, he just had to meet her and congratulate her for her lifetime commitment to being annoying, loud-mouthed, media-attention-seeking, money hungry, bitch.

It seems time is not a healer, as a year later I still have this strong, and some might say 'negative' opinion towards the woman I affectionately call 'ARG, not her again'. The last week or so has been quite confusing and painful for me, thanks to her. The 22nd of March 2009 has been burnt onto my mind forever as one of the happiest days of my life and I also remember it as Mothers Day, so imagine my surprise when I found out just days before that Mothers day this year was a week earlier, on the 14th of March. I had to rush to Tesco's to buy my Mum a card and flowers, all because of that Jade Goody. I thought I was safe in the knowledge that Mothers Day would be the 21st, and that's not all.

Beyond the grave, I swear Jade Goody has not only attempted to make my Mum angry at me, but also to crash my car by cursing me with a bad leg, and also making me vomit myself to death by putting me under the spell of a virus which left me bid ridden for nearly three full days. All I suspect to stop me writing and publishing yet another anti-Goody blog. Maybe I am paranoid, but better luck next time.


I am glad Michael Jackson died last year as well, but not because I disliked him, because I didn't, but purely because it took the hype from Jade Goody. If it wasn't for him, 2009 would be the year that the people of Britain would remember as the year Jade Goody died, but thanks to his doctor killing him, he has become the big death of 2009. I bet Max Clifford was absolutely livid about it, and it is because of that image, I go to sleep happy, every single night.

There is a part in mind which is very suspicious of her whole death really, because who knows what lengths she would go to be famous and popular. Maybe she is dead, or maybe she is alive and living somewhere no-one knows of her and wouldn't recognise her (how I envy them). You may be reading this thinking 'That's a stupid idea; she isn't that idiotic and it wouldn't work'. Well, let me just remind you that this is a woman who pronounced East Anglia as 'East Angular' and thought that to be abroad. As for 'she would never get away with it', never underestimate the power that Max Clifford has.

Again, here is my paranoia (and my hatred) shinning through again, but I think it to be quite a coincidence that at the peak of her unpopularity for being a racist, she gets cancer, gains sympathy, becomes loved then dies before she can ruin it by saying yet another stupid thing. Maybe the reason I am suspicious that she could still be alive is that I miss her and want her to still be alive, because I do. I loved the days when all my Tweets were about how she had annoyed me, when all my blogs seemed to mention her and call her names and when I would come up with a new joke when I saw her face in a gossip magazine or newspaper which would either make my friends laugh or tell me 'that was harsh'. If she came back, imagine all the fun I could have with that.

Instead I have to live with Jade Goody being mentioned every single time Cervical Cancer is mentioned. Every time I read a newspaper or magazine article which is about Cervical Cancer, you can bet that her name is mentioned. Okay, I am aware that I have said this numerous times in many of my blogs and I am going to have to say it again: She done absolutely nothing of any worth. At no point during her illness did she campaign for young girls to get themselves checked out. Essentially, her dying was the best thing that could ever happen, because A) It cheered me up and B) It shocked people into getting themselves checked. All these girls only get themselves checked as a consequence of her dying, not because she tirelessly campaigned. It distresses and provokes me when people almost thank her for girls getting checked out.

Again, I should just reiterate, I am not glad she got cancer; as the cliché goes: I wouldn't wish that upon my worst enemy. I have gone yet another year of witnessing the effects that cancer has upon people, with yet another relative biting the dust as a result of it. However, another relative has had cancer and is now perfectly healthy; it really is unpredictable. I have also seen friends deal with relatives that have cancer, and it is not a good thing, and hopefully soon they will find the cure AND not making it so expensive that no-one can actually afford to be cured, as is so often the case. However, I should reiterate one more thing, I still really, absolutely dislike Jade Goody; I'm not heartless and I am actually quite a genuinely nice person, but I nether had sympathy for her!


Last night on television, there was a tribute show to someone who died last year, which I enjoyed greatly and thought it very emotional and tastefully done. That was Boyzone's Tribute To Steven Gately (R.I.P). However, on last night at the same time was 'Jade: A Year Without Her' on Living TV. I found it funny that numerous people told me about this for weeks previous. I had people Tweeting me, sending me texts, I had an email and also people telling me when they saw me in person. I think it is a great tribute to how much I hated her and how much of an impression I made upon people by doing this. I almost feel pressured into writing this blog; like I am expected to insult her by everyone because of this persona I have created, and this makes me happy. I’ve got to be good at something.

Going back to the tribute, and I could not watch it. Not just because I risked being a hypocrite if I did as it would mean not living by my own values, but for technical reasons: I don't have Sky or Virgin Media so therefore couldn't watch it due lack of the actually channel. I did read the immediate reviews of it afterwards however and also read Tweets while the show was on, and from what I gathered it was what I would call 'Poppycock' and 'Balderdash'! It was apparently a very emotional program in which many people were in or nearly in tears at. I can't help but think these people are very pathetic. Also, she was portrayed as a brilliant person from what I could gather; shown as a fantastic parent to her two children and many people fell in love with her. Essentially, Max Clifford did a good job at achieving his aim.

Obviously, a tribute show of someone's life is not going to catalogue all the persons failings in chronological order, so this was expected, but I just find it amazing how easily people forget the bad things a person done when the media pretend they didn't happen. They clearly have taken all the positive stuff from her life, such as her kids, and based the majority of the show around them for ultimate sympathy from the audience. All-of-a-sudden, all the racism and stupidity is forgotten. A parallel to this happening to a person who is actually alive is Cheryl Cole, being portrayed as this princess of modern times and the role model for millions of girls and women; yet only a few years ago a toilet attendant in a club got beaten up by her. It is blooming annoying.

I am glad that is how they made the show; I think it to be quite fitting of how she lived her life really - a liar. Anyway, I know I will have to get over her death soon and just move on with my life. I know I will have to stop using her as my 'go-to-guy' when I need an easy target to insult in conversations, Tweets and blog posts, but it is just so very hard to move on. I have tried my best, what with Katie Price being an ideal and even easier target for my insults, especially with her not knowing who her husband was last week during her interview on This Morning (Thank Goody I was ill to see that), but it just is not the same. I have all these memories of when life was great and care free. The days when I could insult a women who was dying of cancer, and still get laugh, but now I just look desperate.

There are just three other things which fill me with joy about Jade Goody’s death and also about the anniversary. The first being that my lucky number has always been the number 27, and this was proved by the fact that Jade Goody died at the age of 27. Now, to me it is more than a lucky number - it is a holy, saintly number which will bring joy to me throughout my life.

The second is sweet taste I have in my mouth while typing this very sentence. In the news yesterday was that Jackiey Budden, the mother of Jade Goody, spent the days before her daughter's memorial service yesterday on a drink and drug-induced binge in Tenerife. It is all explained how Jade became such an awful human being, and proof that the entire family are just awful human beings and should be dropped into a giant crater and left to die, like that scene in the BFG at the end.

The third is that Jade Goody being dead essentially proves that - I won. I hated her and now she is dead. I win. Maybe I'll get lucky and Katie Price's left breast will implode and kill her. For now: Stuart 1, Pop Culture 0.

The Shame Of Britain Awards

Just to start, this in no way is mocking The Pride Of Britain Awards, just merely an idea which I've had, in which we can name and shame some of Britain's more shocking people. It can be made as a follow-up to Crimewatch if we wanted. It'd also be just as popular (if not more) than the Pride Of Britain Awards because it'd appeal to the Jeremy Kyle audience who like to watch dysfunctional people be humiliated infront of a national audience.

It would still be a very similar format, with Carol Vorderman wearing a skin tight dress, and he celebrity element would still be there; all sitting around tables with bottles of wine and piles of used tissues, which I assume where used for tears. Gordon Brown would still sit at the front trying to grin, Mr Twat (A.K.A. Piers Morgan) would still try and get in every camera shot he possibly could and Simon Cowell would still be there for everyone to make snide comments about. The event wouldn't be opened by a Dance group called Diversity, but instead a Dance group called Intolerance.

The idea would not to give them awards and hailing them a 'Hero' of our time, but would instead be given an envelope. Within the envelope, would be their jail sentence written on a piece of card. The card wouldn't be given to them by celebrities, and would instead be 'given' to them by footballers. Maybe not 'given', more tied around footballs and the footballers kick the ball in their face.

Now these people have done bad things, I'm not going to ask footballers to kick balls as hard as they can in the faces of normal people. People who have stolen handbags from old ladies, murders of single mums and hit and run drivers are smacked in the face with a ball inviting them to do N number of years inside a prison at Her Majesties Pleasure. These people are locked in cages at the side of the stage and are not allowed to look at the celebrities otherwise they get tasered in the eyes. Cruel, I know.
There would still be tears, so if you want a good cry, you could still watch this show. However, you wouldn't be crying with happiness and pride, but instead disgust and because you’ll find the tales repulsive, even if you have only got a small amount of morals. The good outcome of this idea would be that the criminals would be punished, and crime wouldn't be glamorised, and only the criminal minds who want a peak of Carol Vordermen's cleavage would commit crimes. Or at least that's what the idea is anyway.

This version would also make all the people who have done remarkable things, like rescuing families from over turned cars, campaigning for Cancer charities and being constantly selfless, look even better and make them more inspirational to people to be nicer and live in a world of harmony, or we can at least hope. Anyway, that's enough on the Shame Of Britain Awards, and now onto something much more positive, The Pride Of Britain Awards.

In a time where everyone is down and depressed, these kind of inspirational stories are heart-warming that people can actually be nice; someone doing the selfless act of running across a Motorway to save a family from their crashed car and a young boy who since getting extreme Leukaemia, has become very confident and is now a main campaigner for Great Ormonds Street Hospital. It's these kinds of stories that make you forget the bad, and hammer in the good points of humanity. Selfless teenagers are quite common also, which is surprising because from what the Media has told us, all teenagers are drunk and drugged up, and if they're female - pregnant.

Being my cynical self, I always think up negative points, and I like to play a game called 'Spot The Irony'. Naomi Cambell giving an ex-convict an award for turning his life around? Surely not! A bit of favouritism for Cheryl Cole aswell from the producers -not only did she give an award to someone with some of the other Girls Aloud members, but she also gave another award with the X-Factor entourage - I think she's after Vorderman's job.

Now I'm off too contact some TV Executives, and hope no-one has taken any offence to anything.

P.S. How can Gordon Brown still look like such a mug when he gives the inventor of the MRI machine an award?

P.P.S. Blog special coming soon.

Am I Watching Britain's Got Talent or X-Factor?

Okay, that's not exactly a unique observation, a lot of people have commented on how the new format is the same as Britain's Got Talent - even Cowell himself. Anyway, the auditions have come to an end and honest, I don't think the new format is any better or worse. It's just a way of increasing the embarrassment levels for the damn right awful and increasing the confidence of the spectacular, and I suppose that's a good think really, in a kind of twisted way.

There is one major difference between the new format of X-Factor and Britain's Got Talent, and that is the lack of a buzzer and a giant X above the stage. However, to compensate for the loud, annoying, buzzer sound, the X-Factor does allow Dannii Minogue to talk, so they're about equal on the annoying sounds. Another difference between the two is the lack of an Ant and a Dec, as well as not having a twat (Piers Morgan), sitting on the end making silly jokes - Louie Walsh is there for that job.

This is nothing new, and infact, apart from having a few thousand people sitting behind the judges clapping like children’s wind-up toys in the audtions, it's exactly the same. As usual, you can tell right from the beginning of the clip, whether the contestant is going to be fantastic or utterly rubbish. If there is a sob story just before then they'll be great. A tale of someone coping with autism is one and another is losing his job. Also, the background music has become synonymous with the contestants talent ability. If something like the Steptoe & Sons theme tune is played, you instinctively think rubbish. Should something cheery and soft come on you think they'll be great. There aren’t really any surprises in the X-Factor, or indeed any 'reality' show on the goggle box.

The new format does allow the contestant to sing to backing music, as opposed to standing awkwardly in a quiet room like they used to. Having the music to sing to is great for the people with talent, and just enhances how good they sound. However, as always you have the talentless contestants who also sing with music, and it just makes them sound even worse. It makes it easier to tell that they're not in beat, as well as just making their voice sound like someone pleasuring themselves with a hedgehog (not a nice image there - sorry).
In the old format, when you get the final 10, friends and family all started wearing T-shirts with the name and photo of their loved one (basically just a notice board which walks around and cheers) to show support. Now however, almost every contestant comes with an entourage of people wearing white T-shirts with their face on, and you do feel sorry for all those people wasting money to get the T-shirts made and they don't even get through to the next round because the contestant was bloody awful.

I am still amazed by the amount of awfully deluded people that go on the show believing that they really do have 'The X-Factor'. Yet now it's not quite so fun watching them for two reasons. Firstly, because you do (or I did at least), have a great deal of sympathy for that person on stage in front of thousands of people singing badly and just being humiliated. Secondly, people don't retaliate half as much as they used to. Maybe it's because of the great depression caused by Credit Crunch and worrying how to pay the bill for the T-shirts or maybe just because they have an audience. Either way, it's a shame because I really did enjoy watching people shout at Simon.
One great thing about angry contestants is that they all say the same comment ‘I'd like to see Simon go up on stage and sing'. Since when has Simon said he can sing? I don't think he'd ever dispute that he couldn't do it, but he's famous for being reasonably good at producing and judging good talent -that's his job. The mind of a deluded person seems very interesting.

Another thing with contestants, particularly the elderly female ones, is that they are incredibly horny! As are Simon and Louie. It's just a very odd experience to sit and watch a 78 year old women telling Simon she'd like him to be her Toy-Boy, or telling Louie how they admire him for reasons I can't quite comprehend. Then you get the young women who seem to flirt with Cheryl, telling her how they admire her so much and want to be just like her. Sweet, but again slightly odd, but who does Dannii get to flirt with? No-one, bless her.

It does seem whenever Cheryl talks to a fellow scouse person, they begin to sound like they're talking in their own language, and then she uses it as an excuse to get on stage and give them hug. Infact, Cheryl seems to use any excuse to get on stage and hug contestants. As soon as someone begins to cry, she'll jump up and rush onto the stage to save the contestant from the nasty wasty comments.
Nasty comments, aren't really nasty comments though, I think they call it the truth in some social circles. Simon Cowell is famed for being a big, nasty man who wants to crush everyone's dreams, when really he's saying what everyone else is thinking, and because the people can't accept it, it's interpreted into nastiness.

With Louie sitting in place of where Mr Twat would sit on the judging panel of Britain's Got Talent, it does seem Louie has started using some of Morgan's habits. One for example is the bad puns used to say yes or no. To say yes to someone who has just sung a Girls Aloud song, he'll say 'I'll stand by you, it's a yes from me' or to say no to someone who has just sung a Michael Jackson song (as an awful tribute), he'll tell them to 'Beat it'. Just awful.

One last point I have before I'll have to end this long blog, is the Juxtaposition between Simon and Cheryl who usually sit next to each other. Cheryl makes an effort to wear something different and lavish everyday to look 'stunning'. Yet Simon sits wearing the same thing, just alternating the colour of the t-shirt; Jeans and a white or grey t-shirt. Surely he can afford to wear something a bit different, but that's not important, it's a talent show, not a fashion show, so not sure why I felt the need to mention it. Nether-the-less, I did!

The end has come and I think I should tell you not to get too excited at what I'm about to tell you. Susan Boyle is releasing an album in November. I expect every person reading this has just let out an involuntary cheer and is now so exited they've rushed onto Play.com to pre-order the CD (hint of sarcasm there?), so I'll end.

Toodles M’dearys
xXXx

P.S. Don't forget Sunday my blog appearance will change and a new blog will be posted, to mark the one year anniversary of me updating my blog, so that's something for you to look forward to.