Read that headline. Read it again. Oasis, Take That and A-Ha won some awards yesterday. Yesterday. Not 12 years ago. But that's the Q Awards for you, folks - where age ain't nothing but an unusually high number.

Of course, picking on the Q Awards for honouring a bunch of irrelevant performers who haven't been good for over a decade is like shooting fish in a barrel. But - since the only vaguely interesting thing to happen at yesterday's Q Awards was Noel Gallagher saying that Liam Gallagher is a bit like a monkey at the zoo - that's exactly what we're going to do.

On Saturday X Factor decided to unveil a shocking new twist. "What twist?" we thought. "Is it that Simon Cowell has learnt how to do up his shirts properly? Will Kate Thornton finally reveal where she hid her neck?"

In actual fact it was just a boring old double elimination. But, on the subject of Kate Thornton, does anyone else get the feeling that this whole 'Kate Sacked From X Factor' shebang is just a lazy publicity-grabber, the same as all the judge-fights were on the last couple of X Factor seasons? If it is, then X Factor has sorely missed the mark this time around. There could be a 'Kate Thornton Gives Birth To A Burning Unicorn Out Of Her Arse' headline and nobody would give a toss. Because it's Kate Thornton, for god's sake. Kate Thornton.

Anyway, it's time for part two of this week's X Factor betting odds, and we'll be looking at Ray Quinn, Ashley McKenzie and Eton Road...

Now that Paul McCartney has been branded a violent, frothy-mouthed wife abuser two times over, he needs to ensure that everything that happens from now until the end of his divorce is whiter than white.

Of course, being the king of inoffensive, two-thumbs-up, mullet-shaking MOR pop, Paul McCartney won't have too much of a problem with this - he's already used the 'dignified silence' trick to full effect in the face of all the recent domestic violence allegations - but those around Paul McCartney are having a slightly harder time keeping their graceful smiles in check. Like Paul's daughter Stella McCartney for instance, who's apparently started screaming about how much she wants to kill Heather Mills in the manner that a Columbo suspect would ten seconds before they're arrested. 

It's been a hard few years for Whitney Houston. She's fought crack addiction, unrequited love from the world's most dangerous terrorist leader and an ex-husband determined to pull turds out of her pooper with his fingers.

But now the old Whitney Houston that we knew and loved tolerated were openly disparaging about is back. Instead of a haggard old toothless confused crack addict crawling around the floor swatting imaginary demons from her head, the Whitney Houston who turned up to a fundraiser for diabetes in Beverly Hills on Saturday night was resplendent - dressed in a stunning evening gown dripping with jewels and constantly blowing kisses to besotted photographers. Well, she was either blowing kisses or subtly puffing the imaginary demons away, while sending coded messages to Osama bin Laden to come and get her. Who can really tell for sure?

Awesome or Off-Putting is a weekly delve into cryptozoology, ufology, medical marvels, scientific wonders, secret societies, government conspiracies, cults, ghosts, myths, ancient artifacts, religion, strange facts or just the plain unexplainable.

It's Halloween week, so it's only fitting hecklerspray push a particularly strange tale through your computer screens and into all your ghastly living rooms and web-covered cubicles. The story's of a mongoose given the ability to speak by the hand of the devil. Or something. Technically we're not exactly sure whose hand let Gef the mongoose talk, but we've narrowed it down to the lord of all darkness, or the same company that made Steven Hawking's computerised voice simulator.

We lean towards the latter.

Most kids these days don't realise that Michael Jackson was once a superstar singer; they just think he's that nice squeaky man who absolutely doesn't want to show them porn, feed them Jesus Juice or molest them in any way.

Now, though, Michael Jackson is toying with the idea of returning to his day job of releasing mostly disappointing new albums every few years, so he's going to need help reminding people that Michael Jackson used to sell millions of records and that Michael Jackson was once so famous that he had his own film where he turned into a car and did a dance with a big plasticine rabbit. The World Music Awards is only to happy to provide that help for Michael Jackson, and in two weeks he'll be coming to London to be given a Diamond Award for being quite good 20 years ago.

Ah, Halloween. The only time of year when people take leave of their senses enough to pay to watch a film about a woman getting her face exploded off by a collar made of shotgun shells -  Saw III is top of the US weekend box office.

In fact, Saw III isn't just top of the US weekend box office; Saw III is top of the US weekend box office by a bloody mile, taking over $34 million. To put that in context, more people have paid to see Saw III in its opening weekend this year than Miami Vice, Failure To Launch and Little Man, proving conclusively that seeing a man using a circular saw to slice open someone else's throat in horrific detail is better than seeing Colin Farrell mumble on a speedboat, Sarah Jessica Parker lark around on a sailboat or a baby having sex with an adult woman. Who'd have guessed?

The Dixie Chicks will go down in history as one of country music's most famous acts. Not for any of their songs, but because one of them once said that George W Bush was a fat girl who cried at the end of Pretty Woman and can't throw a ball properly.

And thanks to that remark, nobody wants to touch The Dixie Chicks with a shitty stick any more. And that includes NBC - the network has decided to ban the broadcast of any commercials for the new Dixie Chicks movie Shut Up And Sing in case George W Bush sees one and decides that the head of NBC is a bit too Arab-looking for his liking. In its defence, NBC hasn't commented on this apparent censoring, leading some people to believe that banning the Dixie Chicks ads had nothing to do with politics and more to do with the network simply preferring the evergreen country stylings of Cow Cow Boogie (Moo Moo My Love) by Willie Lomax.