OfCom, the protector of modern decency and punisher of all who swear at Manuel from Fawlty Towers, have ruled that ITV were breaking the rules when they let Tulisa waggle her arm at the cameras.
And not in a Rebel Without a Cause, sexy, doing it with the lights on, leaving the lid off the margarine and swearing at the Pope kind of rule-breaking way, oh no.
They were breaking broadcasting rules, which are as old and fierce as time itself. Unless you’re Ricky Gervais, and you want to insult disabled people, obviously.
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Tulisa off of ‘N Dubz’ has split up with that other bloke Fazer out of ‘N Dubz’ because they were just having a hard time. What’s that you say? Not the best of starts to the week? Well congratu-bloody-lations on that nugget of wisdom, Sherlock. You THINK?
APPAZ (It’s definitely an ‘appaz’ moment. Please give us one ‘appaz’.) Tulisa moved out of the couple’s North London haunt, at some point sometime in the past week probably, and the only reason we’re a bit hazy on that is only because we’re very vulnerable and are having trouble keeping our calenders straight in our shaky callous fingers right now, before you start.
What’s more, it’s not been looking too good for the Camden childhood sweethearts as it was, seeing as their holiday in the Maldives the other day didn’t half go all post-traumatic stressy bessy anyway. We just really didn’t fancy mentioning that at the time, because we didn’t want to make your lovely little faces do that thing.. YES, THAT. THAT THING YOU’RE DOING RIGHT NOW. With the tears. Stop that. Think our problems are really as big as Sinead O Connor’s, do we? Mmm. Well maybe pour another glass of brandy, listen to Mandinka on a slower RPM, and then grow a heart. (Sorry, we’re still sad.)
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If you know someone who’s doing well, you’d be there for them, right? Always showering them with praise or offering words of encouragement when stuff goes a little bit pear-shaped. Anyone with a heart would anyway.
But is everything we see even real? We’ll never know if the smiles and waves that were directed to Cheryl Cole from Girls Aloud were designed to be positive encouragement? Or pile loads of unneeded pressure upon her shoulders so she’d fail and spend a few months in rehab?
For this year’s X-Factor, Tulisa and Kelly Rowland stepped in for Cheryl and Dannii Minogue. We assume that Beyonce was too busy faking a child bump or something to care about her friend Kelly’s progress on the show. As for Tulisa, her fellow members of N-Dubz have been quiet on celebrating her success. Well we say that, Dappy has now decided to voice his opinion on more than just the show.
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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.
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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.
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Tomorrow is the final of the X Factor. It’s the one episode of the series that most of the general public tune-in for, apart from the audition rounds when we can laugh at delusional, frog-eyed members of the public.
Other talent shows may spend the maximum of sixty minutes announcing their winner, but X Factor will be stretching the process over four hours across the weekend. Unless you bought into the conspiracy theory that Amelia Lily is set to win due to the HMV pre-order error, then you have no real reason to watch. Unless your life is completely empty and devoid of any human contact.
X Factor has never produced a winning group, meaning that Tulisa will be spurring on her act – Little Mix – to victory. Aside from the records, the magazine shoots and inevitable quirky interview with some Channel 4 yoof show, what else can they do for us? According to mentor Tulisa, they can make a massive difference to our lives. We hope so, the guttering needs doing.
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We have two more weeks of The X Factor left, and then we can go and do something else in our brains. We know. It’s amazing. Amazing how it’s all gone so marrow-achingly slow isn’t it? Amazing how time can absolutely not shift for three months in the slightest sometimes.
Amazing. A bit like how 2001: A Space Odyssey covered thousands of years scoping from the dawn of men to beyond the infinite. Or a bit like how The Curious Case of Benjamin Button lasted infinity-hundred hours long and achieved absolute zippo. A bit like that, a BIT like that…
And hey! Talking of clutching at straws…
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Well, what another hotbed of mayhem and violation of societal norms it’s been on the X Factor this week.
Whatever you do, don’t let us go on and on about it, kay?
This week on The X Factor, the sound editors got in an extra crate of Aftershock (Spiced Berry black, obviously. They’re not squares) and decided to insult our intelligence! Yeah, as opposed to the norm of respecting us with sincere background music choices that somehow formulate a narrative on a reality entertainment show. Yeah, truth man!
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