Skin’s nice, isn’t it? The biggest organ of all the other organs in your body, according to the internet (though our liver is probably jostling for that accolade), and really good for when you want to stop your other, smaller, organs from falling out and making a mess on the carpet.

Its also pretty good for making a special outfit to wear to old Buffalo Bill’s Valentine’s Day party.

People always say you need to look after your skin, which we do by maintaining a full, thick layer of Vaseline at all times. Beyonce has been looking after her skin, though, by making it white! Seriously. Step away from the Tippex, B, people are starting to think you might be a bit of a racist.

That’s right, in a bid to make all black girls everywhere feel inferior, Beyonce has been whitewashed yet again.

A new picture has been released to promote her actually-really-boring album 4, with tantalising side-boob action and stockings, if that’s what gets you going.

She also looks pretty much completely white (and also like she might be holding in a fart, but that’s not the main issue here) which is, when you come to think about it, really quite racist.

Just like in 2008 when she was edited down to a light beige by L’Oreal.

These pallid publicity shots kind of suggest that, to sell to a wide (white) audience, Beyonce and her ‘people’ think she’s got to whiten up.

So, you know, a pat on the back to everyone, really. It’s the 21st century and we’re still apparently not willing to buy stuff advertised or made by black people.

Nice one, everyone, really. Well done.

This was an article written by Becca Day-Preston who, in all seriously, will probably kick your teeth inward if you try messing with her. Okay?

Beyonce is, no doubt, about to fill her Facebook with pictures of her baby despite the fact it has no hair, can’t talk, is probably doing a shit right now and essentially, is like every other baby on Earth. New parents are ghastly aren’t they?

Worse still, is that people are constantly asking people how ‘baby’ is before launching into high-pitched squeaking and saying things like “Amoojieboobieboo? Schmookibaba? BABA? Boogliewoogiedoo? Awopbopaloobop alopbamboom!“

So now, Beyonce has given her first interview about Blue Ivy Carter (who recently became the youngest person to hit the Billboard chart apparently… we’re not sure… didn’t Stevie Wonder have a baby on Isn’t She Lovely?) and she won’t stop going on about it. She even talks about Jay Z being covered in faecal matter.

Speaking to Star magazine, Bey admitted:

“Nothing can describe the feeling. You have the instant connection once you know your child is growing inside you, but when you hold it for the first time, the words can’t be found”

The words can’t be found eh? Won’t stop you releasing some awful, saccharine ballad about it all, will it?

When asked about J-Hova, Beyonce said:

“He would not have missed it for anything. He is a very protective and loyal guy by nature. He is a very protective husband, and since we found out I was pregnant I have seen the protective father in him. He is not only an inspirational artist, he is an inspirational husband. I know the next step on his journey is going to be being an inspirational father.”

Jesus Christ! Have you heard yourself? It sounds like Beyonce swallowed a self-help tape during labour! And apparently, Jay won’t be boxfresh, brushing his shoulder for long. He’s going to be up to his famous neck in dung.

“He will change diapers, of course he will. He is going to be a very hands-on father. He has already said publicly that providing isn’t love. Love is being there. Love is doing the little things for your child.”

And, of course, not saying ‘bitch’ in songs. Still, if you’re not annoying feminists, you’re annoying hospital goers, right? Beyonce added:

“Security was very tight but not just for the sake of it. It was for the security of our daughter – that was always the most important thing and everybody involved made it such a safe and smooth process. As usual, certain things have been made up or exaggerated but that seemed to be the story of the pregnancy.”

LIKE A COLLAPSING STOMACH PERHAPS?

Either way, Beyonce is going to have to work twice-as-hard to bring back Sasha Fierce because, as well you know, new parents are nothing more than dewy-eyed, sentimental radishes, blushing at each skidmark and steady-vomit from their gurgling little berks.

We’ve lost her, haven’t we?

Jay Z famously had 99 problems but, a bitch wasn’t one of them. And from now on, bitches won’t ever be a problem because he’s decided that he’s not going to degrade women anymore. And it’s all because he’s had a stupid baby with a stupid name.

Ain’t life a funny thing?

Seriously. The rap mogul has vowed to drop the word from his lyrics after the birth of Blue Ivy Carter. Now he’s got someone to care about, he’s realised that referring to women as bitches isn’t really that nice. Of course, his wife, mother and any other female family member must feel more than irked because he’s been happy to call that lot bitches for the best part of 20 years. There’s more! Jiggaman must be extra sensitive because he told us this news via a poem! A POEM! All this, while someone was naming a species of fly after his ‘bitch’, Beyonce.

In the poem, the rapper wrote in his neatest handwriting:

“Before I got in the game, made a change, and got rich/I didn’t think hard about using the word bitch/I rapped, I flipped it, I sold it, I lived it/Now with my daughter in this world I curse those that give it.”

He’ll still be using ‘ho!’ though, right? Apparently not! There won’t even be bikini-clad girl in his videos because he went on to swear that he’ll protect her and that the “degradation has passed”.

He writes:

“No man will degrade her, or call her name. I’m so focused on your future, the degradation has passed. I wish you wealth, health and insight. Forever young you may pass. Blue Ivy Carter, my angel.”

Mercifully, there’s a bunch of other rappers who will still be selling a million records to continue the use of ‘bitch’. And of course, in time old hip hop tradition, we’d like to point out that we’re not being sexist. Ho and bitch are only ever aimed at those women who act like hos and bitches. Okay?

Peace. One love. Big pimpin’.

Oh, and in other news, scientists have just named a horse fly with a golden rear end after Beyonce. No, honest. It’s a rare Scaptia (Plinthina) beyonceae species of horse fly and scientists have said:

“It was the unique dense golden hairs on the fly’s abdomen that led me to name this fly in honor of the performer Beyonce as well as giving me the chance to demonstrate the fun side of taxonomy”

See bitches? Things aren’t so bad are they?

It is testament to how much people hate parents when you consider that, prior to having a baby, Beyonce Knowles was quite possibly the most admired woman on the face of the planet. And now look at her…

EVERYONE HATES BEYONCE.

See, she’s had her baby with Jay Z, sidestepped the fake bump rumours and slapped the name of Blue Ivy on the child, but it was her time in the hospital that has seen everyone go from COO! to BOOOOOO! I HATE YOU! YOU ROTTEN STINKER! And now, there could be some kind of official investigation at the hospital where Blue Ivy came into the world.

Instead of everyone fizzing with post-natal excitement, what we’re actually faced with is an investigation from The Health Department after families claim that they were mistreated while Beyonce was given VIP treatment.

Stupid, hateful Beyonce with her freakum hospital gown on.

Beyonce’s stay at Lenox Hill Hospital in NYC has caused a number of complaints, and basically, they claim that families were kept from seeing their newborn babies in the neonatal intensive care unit because they’d been barred by J-Hova and B’s security guards.

As an aside, do you think Beyonce’s howls of labour anguish were pitch perfect?

Anyway, B&J also had the hospital cover its security cameras with tape, which could’ve resulted in nutters like you running around stabbing everyone in sight without fear of getting caught. Good thing this news only came out AFTER the event, eh?

A spokesman for the Health Department, Peter Constantakes, says:

“We have received complaints. Whenever we receive a complaint, we look into it. It’s not necessarily an investigation. It could be a review. Most likely in this case, it would be an investigation”.

Or: We really, really want to meet Jay Z and Beyonce, please.

Trying to land the coveted first snaps of a celebrity baby is something all rags and publications fight tooth and nail for and, boy howdy! We’ve only gone and landed the first shots of Beyonce and Jay Z’s new child, Blue Ivy!

We’re as shocked as you are!

And weirdly, we’ve got 50 Cent to thank for such an honour because he leaked them to us, allowing us to share them with you. Very good of Fiddy to give us such an exclusive isn’t it? Yes it is. Wanna see?

50 Cent shared these 100% genuine images (like it or not, they are images – 100% so) with Team Spreezy and we now get to show them to you!

And as you can see (backed up by Fiddy too), Blue Ivy looks just like her dad! It’s amazing really. We can’t quite believe how much she looks like Mr Jigga.

Fiddy tweeted:

“Yal play to much congratulations to JAYZ and Beyonce BABY #BlueIvyCarter IS GEORGOUS”

“You bull sh*ting they will pay a million dollars for a picture of that baby lol trust me.”

And so, without further ado, here are the first shots of Blue Ivy Carter, as shared to us in good faith by 50 Cent who definitely wouldn’t lie to us about such a thing!

Congrats to everyone, including us.

A father of premature-twins has complained that Beyonce and Jay-Z’s ‘people’ stopped him from visiting his newborns in hospital.

Despite doing nothing more remarkable than what women have been doing for thousands of years and without the help of a placenta-grooming team, Beyonce’s medical needs were deemed so important by her minders that they barred other patients from entering the 6th floor neonatal intensive care unit where Queen B was resting up after giving birth to a child presumably named after a toilet-cleaner.

Neil Coulon accused Beyonce’s hired goons of treating the hospital corridor like ‘an exclusive nightclub’. By which we mean, enforced a strict entrance policy, rather than charging other patients £30, flicking the light switches on and off, pissing on the floor then dousing them in Joop! and pheromones.

Coulon told the New York Daily News:

“Three times they stopped me from entering or exiting the NICU and it happened once on Friday – just because they wanted to use the hallway”

“They should have been more strategic about it. These are children with problems in intensive care and you’re just going to take over the hospital like you own it? All I want is an apology.”

To be honest, it is incredibly hard not to side with B&J on this one; the $750million powercouple are alleged to have blown $1.3million bullet-proofing the maternity wing, Money well spent, as everyone knows that bullet wounds are sooooo 2004.

Think about it.

If you spent £30 on a new rug, you wouldn’t even let people walk on it with their SHOES on, let alone allowing sick people dripping umbilical blood, guts, vernix and stuff all over it.

In fact, for $1.3million we would have expected all NHS’ers shot on sight. So yeah. You go B! Besides, did the plebs make a piece of music about the whole thing that sounded like this?

No. No they didn’t. Yes, we know it’s not very good.

UPDATE – The hospital have denied these claims, but that’s not very funny. Either way, we’re adding this so lawyers don’t give us hassle.

This was a guest post by Lady Robotnik who, frankly, has great legs and fists that won’t quit. It is advised you don’t mess

The world’s most talented baby was born at the weekend – Blue Ivy Curtis – who will change everything, and will definitely not look like Nas, came out of the world’s greatest vagina to rapturous trumpet fanfare, while Jay-Z reconsidered his verses in early hit “Big Pimpin’”.

Blue Ivy, who has more money and talent than anyone we could ever think of despite being less than a week old, hasn’t been officially announced by Jay-Z and Beyonce, because they’re closed-off about their relationship to frankly KGB levels.

However, a bunch of other folks announced the outbreak of Blue Ivy after various media sources calculated that something had to happen surely, because that’s been 9 months and that’s how it works after having read a book at school AND EVERYTHING.

Rihanna, a woman who is familiar with reproduction, took to Twitter, writing:

“Welcome to the world princess Carter! Love Aunty Rih.”

Of course, Blue Ivy isn’t actually the niece of Rihanna by blood, and as such, will find her sexually attractive in years to come. Still, nothing beats X Factor winner Leon Jackson, who tweeted this gruesome missive:

“That lucky baby that gets to suck on Beyonce’s boobs”

Naturally, hecklerspray would like to wish all the best to Blue Ivy Carter who is going to make everything different, and no-one else’s child is ever going to be as good. In school, Blue will have a desk made of gold, but the other kids will still love her because she’s brilliant and she’s made out of amazing people.

Obviously we can’t guarantee that Blue Ivy will go into music like Mum and Dad, but here’s some advice for the immaculate sprog:

• Your parents can afford better than Ark Music. Don’t do a Rebecca Black.
• If you’re going to attempt a modern narrative on feminism, go to Mum. Although… yeah, going to Mum’s better.
• Ladies if you love ya man show him you the finest, grind up on him girl show him how you ride it.
• Don’t ask Dad “What’s the problem? ” because he’s got 99 of them, making you…
• Don’t use the later Destinys Child stuff as a focus. They were way, way better around the “Bills, Bills, Bills” era.

We can all get on with hating our worthless lives now.

This was a guest post by Euan L Davidson who is currently shopping for Roc-A-Wear bibs and nappies.

Beyonce Knowles has been incredibly inconsiderate with all his pregnancy lark. Not only has she had the temerity to appear to have a collapsing, inflatable stomach, she’s also left us prying dimwits completely out of the loop.

WE NEED ANSWERS!

But until then, we’ll just have to speculate. And today, we’re assuming that she’ll be having her baby at 4pm, because she really likes the number four. It’s the 4th  January too. Do keep up. Jesus.

See, Beyonce has an obsession with the number 4 doesn’t she? It’s her lucky number and everything!

She was born on 4th September. Her husband, Jay-Z, he was born on the 4th December. Because of this, they chose to marry on the 4th April.

She also named her latest album ’4′, which is pretty conclusive that this child will be forced out today, at 4pm on the 4th January.

Right?

Want more proof? Beyonce also has ‘up to four pairs of shoes’ according to sources and apparently once ate ‘four breakfasts’ at once. Destiny’s Child also had four members at once and Beyonce is understood to have seen Police Academy 4: Citizens On Patrol “at least 4 times” with “at least four different people”, which leaves us in no doubt that this baby will be out in the world today.

WHAT MORE PROOF DO YOU NEED?

To those of you who have been tweeting the ether, congratulating Beyonce and Jay Z on their new baby, you look incredibly stupid right now. That’s because Queen B hasn’t had a baby at all. Right? RIGHT?

Obviously, she might not be pregnant at all and is merely waiting for the surrogate to fly from South America next month when the flights are a bit cheaper. She’s got to ditch that inflatable Preg-O-Tum at some point hasn’t she?

That’s if you believe those rumours, which we absolutely do. We won’t believe Beyonce carried the child until we’ve seen her naked, sweating on a hospital bed, with a small human head poking out of her guts. All this doesn’t matter of course because Solange Knowles (Bea’s less successful singing sister) has been shooting down rumours.

Last week, idiots of twitter were cooing all about this baby girl, who Beyonce had named Tiana May Carter. Sadly, it was a work of fiction, leaving fans praising thin-air.

And now, Solange has tweeted:

Shout out to my sister for being THE cutest pregnant woman ever!

Not only that, Billboard reported that they saw Beyonce and Jay Z having dinner on New Year’s Eve in Brooklyn, totally still large of stomach.

So there you have it. Stop praising a baby that doesn’t exist. That’s a stupid thing to do.

What are you? Christians?

Uh-oh! There’s a baby due in New York City! That can only mean one thing! Beyonce is going to have her fake baby bump removed after what seems like only a month of wearing it and some surrogate is going to hand over a beautiful child!

Or, indeed, she’s actually going to force one out of her toot. Unlikely though, right?

Obviously, the story has been that she cleverly concealed her pregnancy before revealing it at the MTV Music Awards… but that can’t possibly be right can it? Effectively, while we like Beyonce’s music, we thoroughly don’t trust her. You’ve heard 1+1, If I Were A Boy and Ego right?

Anyway, B is apparently moments away from giving birth to her first child and nurses at New York’s St Luke’s Roosevelt hospital are said to have been told to prepare for a celebrity VIP. Just like the speedy pregnancy, she could be popping one out as early as TODAY.

We can also assume that the saccharine tribute to her bundle of joy has already been written, complete with lines like “you complete me” and something to do with miracles.

Of course, what with Beyonce and Jay Z being ostentatious, they’ve booked half the floor of the hospital’s Labor and Delivery Suite, which invariably means that loads of other New Yoikers will be giving birth in the street on wallpapering tables, delivered by Doctor Nick (Hi everybody!).

A spokesperson for the singer was unavailable for comment earlier today.

Mercifully, we never ever need an official line from celebrities we’re talking about because, ostensibly, everyone is making this shit up anyway.

Great!

We should all totally start speculating about what she’s gonna call the baby. We’re putting our money on Jermajesty or Sandra.

Beyonce is looking forward to packing away that collapsing stomach she bought while she waits for the stork to bring her newborn into the world. We can only hope she goes a bit Jermaine Jackson and gives it a ludicrous name.

And of course, it is Christmas which will see Beyonce and Jay Z having some time off for the first time in ages.

So what will they be doing? Eating, giving ostentatious and lavish gifts to each other that equate to the third world debt and of course, NOT WATCHING ANY CHRISTMAS TELEVISION AT ALL BECAUSE BEYONCE HAS BANNED IT LIKE SOME KIND OF MONSTER. We have a theory why.

B says that the television won’t be on at all over the festives:

“I will be with family. We are both so busy throughout the year that Christmas is just a time to relax with family and count the many blessings in your life.

*vomit*

“Christmas Day is a no-TV zone. We just like to sit and talk together as a family.”

What has Beyonce got against Christmas television? The California Raisins are usually on, and really, it ain’t Christmas without their dubious racial stereotypes appearing at some point.

There’s also re-runs of old comedies, stupid Doctor Who specials and loads of films. What’s not to like?

Well, if Beyonce has been watching Viva! or somesuch for the past couple of weeks, she’ll know that she can fully expect to be haunted by the ghost of Christmas past.

Notably, her involvement in the awful Destiny’s Child Christmas songs. If you haven’t heard them, you’re in for a real treat.

Let’s have a listen eh?

There’s the woeful 8 Days Of Christmas…

And this…

AND THIS…

Humbug.

Hello! This story doesn’t make any sense! In fact, this story is so categorically stupid that it requires a key. So, here is a key.

KEY, YEAH?

*SCOTT JORDAN – Man who says he looks like Justin Timberlake and substantiates this claim with a photo of himself in a trilby, which apparently is something the REAL Justin Timberlake would do. In 2002, at a stretch, possibly, Scott.
*KITTY BRUCKNELL – Lead singer of Wham OR something a bit Councillor of the Exchequer-y, we forget. Something a bit like that.

So Kitty Brucknell (Check the key)  Yes, THE Kitty Brucknell, has reportedly broken up the marriage of a Justin Timberlake impersonator. That’s what we’re working with here. That’s entirely what has happened, yep.

It’s just exhausting really, isn’t it? We work hard all day. We come home, and Kitty Brucknell has had sex all over a Justin Timberlake impersonator. Well, we suppose we could take the coherent objective of: “HEY! Who hasn’t?” But as we well know, we would be lying to both you, us, and perhaps most importantly of all: every single person in the world who has not had sex with Scott Jordan, the Justin Timberlake Impersonator.

And nobody is quite NOT having any sex whatsoever with Scott Jordan, The Justin Timberlake Impersonator than his wife (Shit!) Mrs Justin Timberlake impersonator. (SHIT!) No sur’ee, definitely not a wink of frottage going on in that partnership, that’s for sure. Not any more at least, for that heart has been taken into the warm, ethereal, in-need-of-a-good-moisturise-if-you-ask-us hands of Kitty Brucknell, whom has been named on the divorce papers as being the sole reason for the relationships’ demise. You know, that man who you haven’t heard of at all ever.

No, not Matthew Wright from the Wright Stuff! This other one.

Dare you to thumbs-down it, just to be a dick.

Anyway – according to “Scott Jordan” (*Throws up arms in manner of Michael McIntyre demonstrating something we can relate to*) this woman is KRAZY. Like KANDY FLOSS WITH A K, kind of crazy.

‘She is a monster who does not think twice about tearing other people’s lives apart to get what she wants.

‘She thought being with me would make her famous and get her in the papers and she didn’t care about how her manipulations and lies could have destroyed my career and my marriage.

‘My wife has been subjected to Kitty’s disgusting taunts and lies over the phone.

‘She makes me feel sick.’

Come on, Woman from The X Factor who looks like the sort who person who eats their own leg hair for sport and spent time in rooms containing lockable doors with Louis Walsh? Crazy? That word gets thrown around too much these days. CHEERS FOR THAT ONE, “GNARLS BARKLEY”

Come on Scott, the second best pop star impersonator of all time, (Yeah, as if we were going to let THIS sucker slide) she’s one of those lovable mentals, like Jack The Ripper, or Amanda Holden. All she did was break up your marriage with sex and violence. We do that sometimes instead of sleeping, or eating toast. Yeah, we beat our wives. That’s how we’re choosing to sum up this one. BAD WIVES.

Remember when Kelly Rowland didn’t have that nose and those boobs? And all that new hair too. She’s a transformed woman! As a result, she’s got herself a moderately successful solo career and some TV work.

Alas, everyone was absolutely convinced that she was drunk all the time. Y’all. Y’ally, y’all y’all.

And so, now she’s happy with the way she looks and got herself a healthy bank account, she’s a dream woman to date, right? Not that any of you pig-ugly berks stand a chance… but you can dream. NO YOU CAN’T. That’s because, and this is from the Destiny’s Horse’s mouth, she’s not an easy woman to date.

You won’t believe this, but the wealthy, successful, lived-in-a-bubble for over a decade superstar has revealed that she is often too bossy and demanding and can put men off with her overpowering nature.

That’s a massive shock right? We all thought she was really down to Earth. Honestly we did.

Speaking to The Mirror:

“The desire to be in control and decide everything myself as much as possible gets in the way.”

“The fact that I can act a little bossy has ruined quite a few dates. I choose the restaurant, I open the door myself, sometimes I’ll even pay the bill. I really have to learn to let a man be a gentleman.

“That’s probably one of the reasons why I’m single. I get in the way of myself when it comes to men.”

Wait. Sometimes she pays the bill? She should ALWAYS pay the bill, not least because she’s helped to further the career of David effing Guetta.

She may be single but that doesn’t mean that the Destiny’s Child star is celibate. She admitted that she currently has the best of both friends, with a ‘special friend’ that she likes to get a bit jiggy with every now and again.

She added:

“I’m actually single but, you know, you have your little things on the side. There’s nobody I’m dating but I have a special friend.”

Ah yes. Kelly’s booty calls that she’s so determined to tell everyone about all the stinking time.  One has to assume that this is different to any other woman in a similar situation in Kelly’s mind. That’s because she’s gaspingly deluded. It’s kinda fun to watch, right?

Let us hope that she ends up going a bit more mental in the coming months.

Hey you, quick, come out from behind the sofa. It’s all over, honest. After nearly four months, the auto-tuned X Factor singers won’t be making anymore feature length appearances on ITV to ruin your weekend.

As we all know, Little Mix were voted as the winners. Or, it was all fixed by Simon Cowell for them so we can have a girl group that are slightly more polished around the edges than when Girls Aloud first started out. Learn from your mistakes and whatnot.

So how exactly do you celebrate winning a national competition which has been steadily declining in viewers each week? Sip on champagne whilst hanging out with record execs? Little Mix had Tulisa as a mentor. She took them for a kebab instead.

For the scum of society like us, a kebab is nothing more than delicious thin strips of oily brown meat, presented in a polystyrene box. The grub itself is nothing more but lamb baws and horse gristle smashed together to make something described as a food stuff you can shove down your throat ’til you wretch.

But Little Mix and Tulisa aren’t like us common folk who’ll coat their post pub treat in gallons of garlic sauce before dropping it all over themselves.

They’ll be dining in places where kebabs are from fresh cuts of wild boar, unicorn and bear.

Taking to Twitter after they’d all munched a rough piece of meat that had been stewing in its own juices for weeks, Tulisa said:

“What do ya do after ur act wins the xfactor?”

You should bloody know as we already written a few hundred words about it, but anways:

“…go 2 ur local kebab shop of course, wooooiiiiiii….”

We’re looking at you Jesy Mix. You greedy little Muffin you.

Hello. Do you remember when you watched The X Factor final yesterday? Well, by an astonishing coincidence, so did we. And crikey, wasn’t it just totally and definitely and absolutely unequivocally passable? Yeah. Take that, H8ERS.

*Dermot tongue roll* ALRIIIIGHT. It was in two halves, like the bloody brilliant darling that it is. Is it possible to be too entertained? The answer is of course c) Kaposi’s sarcoma.

Nonetheless, yes they absolutely poured out a grand total of FOUR. HOURS. That’s like an hour and twenty minutes per finalist. How many times can we hear Marcus say, “I used to be a hairdresser, and now I’m a singer a bit.” over and over in varying incorporations? Obviously, once you chop out all the adverts that’s only about twelve minutes or so though, obviously. No bigz.  So then. We love adverts. They really really make us want to buy produce via an amusing or creative short film piece. Our favourite advert of course is the one where the little boy can’t wait to give his parents a Christmas present, and how it really really made us want to buy padlocks for our doors. Oh alright, “The X Factor” then. Here’s loads of wank about it, in two sections.

SATURDAY

Hello, we didn’t watch Saturday’s X Factor. Why would we? But if we HAD, the review would have gone something along the lines of this:

Oh crikey, look at all these dead sparrows and PVC and contraceptive pills strewn upon Wembley Stadium. We guess it must be the penultimate X Factor final show! So for those of you who missed it (JEEZ GUYS WHERE WERE YOU? We bought dip, and everything) – Dermot hot stepped to Domi Aragoto Mr Roboto in a tank with women wearing Jodie Marsh’s army belt outfit (this was before the pumping steroids into her neck phase) and – were those tears? Oh no, it’s just perspiration from being sewn into grey woollens for the past three years.

Well, first up to perform was definitely Amelia Lily, which we know for absolute definite. Well, wasn’t she good, gang? Yes, she really sang that Christina Aguilera ballad with quite the pazzazz and passion that Christina Aguilera hardly ever bothers about. And not to mention that bit where the smoke surrounded her and the other stuff happened, that was our favourite bit. Obviously that key change was a little bit too emotional for our tastes, but that’s just because we’re fragile. Amelia’s choice of outfit was a bit ‘punk’ as well, wasn’t it? You could take someone’s eye out with that thing. Nick Broomfield basically did a documentary about it because it was so sadomasochistically wounded. The judges LOVED. IT.  Louis completely rammed Kelly in approval of picking a song for Amelia that he had heard of. It wasn’t our favourite sex we’ve ever seen, but it was better than the Alex Reid porno marginally, and we’re very lonely. He’s having a baby now.

And then up came LITTLE MIX to perform some songs about what on Earth it could possibly be like to be young normal women, which we’ve always been completely nonplussed about. We mean, “women who are down to earth”. It doesn’t really seem to make much sense, seeing as how Queen Elizabeth I was a woman, and how Heidi Klum is DEFINITELY a woman. It makes sense, no. Nonetheless we’re sure you all enjoyed Little Mix’s medley of “Survivor”/”Sisters are doing it for themselves”/”I Will Survive”/”You Make Me Feel Like a Natural Woman”/”Woman”/”Women”/”Girl”/”Girls”/”Girls Girls Girls”. We sure did. But you know what we’re like, we love everything. We’re like a walking Tom Jones allegory.

Finally to perform was MARCUS COLLINS. Warraguy. Loved it when Marcus trotted down those steps in Gene Wilder’s Willy Wonka costume from 1971 and sang the entire saxophone solo from Careless Whisper in particular, all the other stuff we could take or leaves. Tulisa going off on a massive scavenger hunt for self esteem half way through his performance was a trifle odd though, we must say – but then again she did grow up in a box in Camden so we’ll let her off.

Then they all sang again, this time with the judges because otherwise they’d have to dare we say it, ask professionals or something, and Gary Barlow played the piano in a manner of sincerity. Don’t say they don’t treat you. They do. Sound about right? Okay good.

(Oh and Amelia Lily got voted out. Devastation for da nation.)

SUNDAY

Christ sake. This again.

So this was the final FINALLY FINAL kind of X Factor final. Everything was so darn, FINAL about it. Wembley was there, Coldplay was there, Louis wore the entire concept of Hugh Heffner. It was all just very much there. All you could ever want from television. Olly Murs was there for Christ sake! Olly Murs! You don’t see him around much these days, do you? Aside from every waking second OBV, but who can’t have enough Olly Murs?

The proceedings began with a manic display of wonder and glory. (Oh no, not glory, what’s that other word? Oh right yeah, tedium.) and that. Yes, it was the group performance we’ve all been wrestling in our sleep over for the past three months. But wait one cotton-picking, Stacey Solomon singing Chris Rea MOMENT OF COMPLETE LACK OF REASON, there was Goldie! As in Goldie off of When Goldie Used To Be On The X Factor fame, who sings something inexplicably wrong and then crushes Dermot to death with a loving embrace akin to that of the bloke that gets spattered by a propeller in Titanic. Absolutely outstanding work, and better yet, no Frankie Cocozza – this just gets better and better. WE LOVE THE X FACTOR! Merry Amazing Christmas.

And, as Tolstoy always said, you can take the Frankie Cocozza out of the M&S advert, and apparently you can edit him out of life too. Always a rushing flurry of hope to our hearts, that little factoid. And seeing as we love not committing lots and lots of suicide, it works out pretty well all round.

Now, talking of singing some songs by some singers of song…

Kicking things off was Marcus with his personal highlight of the series, which turns out to be Higher and Higher, even though it was Reet Petite and oh, it doesn’t matter. It’s a minute and a half orchestration of something that at some point or another was made with love and care with the express determination to never be on a Debenhams advert. AS IT IS… Sherlock Rowland cleverly deduces that Higher and Higher is not only a song, but the way Marcus’ career is no doubt going, Y’ALL. Obviously she’s wrong in every single fibre, but to be fair does look like she’s been necking Terry Wogan’s special hand lotion for the past decade.

What do you mean, you want to know how Marcus did? No you don’t. There were still two hours to go. Time is actually replenishing. Next up after Marcus, was definitely not Marcus, which was kind of encouraging. LITTLE MIX of course. Or Little Muffins as Tulisa will desperately chip away at until she gets through the door and hacks Shelly Duvall to death clearly. Little Muffins though… Is that sentimental? Or is that just referring to your ‘friends’ (Tulisa. Seriously. Pull the other one) as big doughy balls of fat? We mean… Muffins. Don’t let us go on about it or anything, but muffins? Did Tulisa even stop to think that there might be a manifestation of foetal rubella infection called Blue Muffin Syndrome? Congrats Tulisa, sterling work as ever. Oh she also calls N Dubz fans her little ‘dublettes’  Nope, we’re staying well away from that one. Well away.

Remember when they used to be called Rhythamix? Those were the days. They should have just called themselves CHICKS WITH DICKS. That would’ve been awesome. We think this is possibly where The Saturdays are going wrong.

So what did the ITTLE WITTLE SUGAR LUMP GANG BANG IN CAR PARK MIXYMOOMINS pick for their final song? Obviously obviously it was the En Vogue one, due to it being catastrophically fan-fucking-tastic. Hark, it’s a bit like music almost. Get used to it.

With the contestants done in four and a half minutes, you’d think ITV1 might have to succumb to some dodgy filler material. Not a chance. We were proved staggeringly wrong with a very well thought out outside segment (YES, IT’S THE OUTSIDE SEGMENTS! Last year someone made Matt Cardle a David Cameron pizza! No one knows why!) of Olly Murs and Caroline Flack (or cock-whore-pedophile-bitch as we hear she’s moonlighting as these days) try and communicate with Dermot (HAHA ‘communicating with Dermot O Leary.’ THE THOUGHT!) whilst shoving screaming mental patients away from their shiny knees and precisely measured hints of popularity. Like we said before, we love The X Factor.

And then, to cries of ‘oh go on then‘, four hundred extra songs for the two contenders then. It’s Sunday night, we’ve got a busy working week, let’s treat ourselves… with Christmas songs. Bum. Marcus sang what confusingly sounded like a retro version of Last Christmas. A ‘retro’ version of Last Christmas, that came about in 1985, that would be. Bloody hell Marcus, buy some roller blades. Don’t get us started on the whole saying “Happy Christmas” instead of “Merry Christmas” in such a throwaway manner anyway, when we all very very much know the correct way to say the Merry Christmas bit when performing the popular festive number Last Christmas.

We’ve not been this disappointed since Bono didn’t sing “WELL TONIGHT THANK GOD IT’S THEM INSTEAD OF YOU” really loud in Band Aid 20 like he did in the 80s one. Or alternatively, we haven’t been this disappointed since Bono. We cater for all your needs.

Gary at some point around this stage accidently said “Sex Factor” we noticed, which is a bit of an exciting thing for him to do, for him, isn’t it? He would have had to listen to an entire Fleet Foxes EP to get back on track there. Little Mix then followed with their version of Silent Night and it was dull, but Christ, the hot blonde one is quite notably attractive. But then Westlife come on. We’re never complaining ever again. COME BACK LITTLE MIX AND SING AN ACAPELLA BARBERSHOP QUARTET VERSION OF SHALOM. Or a terriballs cover of Cannonball. We’re good either way.

You know how all the teenagers of today say how ‘good’ is like, ‘bad’, and like ‘sick’ is like ‘good’ and how ‘bad’ is like ‘good’? Well we mean good in the sort of ‘not good’ kind of way of good. You know, like how the teenagers do.

Then…

THE BIT WHERE THEY ALL SING CANNONBALL EXCESSIVE AMOUNTS TO THE POINT OF RELAPSE

We hated it very very much and wish it had not happened ever.

Finally, after a lot of faffing about and Coldplay, and all that sort of thing, we came to a rough compromise that we’ll let ‘inspiring women’ win The X Factor for a change instead of a shivery man. CONGRATULATIONS LITTLE MIX. You have made X Factor “history” as Phil Schofield is calling it these days. What a terrible Christmas No. 1 this is going to be though. Maybe we should fritter away our entire Christmas holiday, all join forces and try and get a post-post-ironic non-entity to Number One instead! Fuck family and Argos and Jesus!

(Just checked Brian May’s blog for his thoughts on the X Factor winners. Don’t think he’s caught up on the results yet. He must have been busy playing Bohemian Rhapsody for a cow in a field.)

Now for god’s sake, look at the state of this.

FOR GOD’S SAKE. Let’s never EVER do this ever again.