And that, it seems, is that. Lauren has gone, but that isn’t exactly a surprise. Now, here’s the important news – come back at 8:30pm next Saturday for part one of the Great X Factor 2014 Final Liveblog. There could be tears. There might be Madonna. There will be, conservatively, about 75 minutes of adverts. You’d be dumb to miss it.
Thanks, as always, for keeping me company. You guys are the greatest. If you want to follow me on Twitter, I’m @StuHeritage, but I don’t really care if you don’t. Right then. Until next week…
And now for the finalists, who get to spend the entirety of next week performing a grotty Coach Trip rip-off. This is your life now, guys! Enjoy it!
And just before she goes, I’ve just discovered who Lauren reminds me of. It’s Liam off One Direction. Oh well! Too late! Bye Lauren!
Lauren’s best bits package is like watching a hyperlapse of cumulative make-up application.
Simon’s milking this for all he can. Lauren sang well, he says. Andrea made a load of grotty poo-faces. And then he sends Lauren home. So Lauren goes home. Andrea lives to megapooface in the final.
Phew. Louis picks next. He also sends Lauren home. If Simon decides to send Andrea home, we’re at Deadlock Central again.
Cheryl sends Andrea home, because Lauren is her act. Melb sends Lauren home, because Andrea is her act. Please lord don’t let Louis pick last.
(I think I preferred Lauren’s song).
Mega poo-face going on here. Crying mega poo-face. How’s he going to top that week? Spontaneously have a noosebleed?
Luckily it seems to be a power ballad that’s largely comprised of vowels, so at least it’s right in his wheelhouse.
Over the last few weeks, Andrea has done everything in his power to shy away from power ballads because he knows that we’re all sick of him singing power ballads. So guess what he’s singing now? That’s right, A GIGANTIC POWER BALLAD.
That was quite good. And now for Andrea. This will be quite loud.
Oh. Lauren’s doing that thing where she’s quite a lot better in the sing-off than she is in the actual show. Perhaps Lauren’s one of those people who needs the constant threat of rejection to propel her to greatness. If that’s the case, she’s going to do brilliant things after she’s kicked off the show in about 12 minutes.
Lauren’s up first. This is all her own fault for singing Stay Another Day last night instead of Stay Another Week (And Then Let Me Win After That).
And now, the final part of tonight’s show. You know, the part where Lauren definitely goes home.
That song was taken from the album Idina Menzel And Michael Buble Giggle Self-Indulgently Through Several Beloved Hits Until You’re Forced To Destroy The Nearest Set Of Speakers With Your Fists And Teeth Because While Screaming Swearwords At God Because It’s All So Smug That You’re Pretty Sure It Made You Just Crap Yourself. Available to download from tomorrow!
You know when Robbie Williams performs on X Factor, and he’s all wobbly-eyed, and he forgets the words, and starts laughing, and then just talks nonsense to the audience? This is just like that, except there’s two of them, and they’re DOING IT ON PURPOSE.
I hate Christmas.
Well, they’re both having a lot of fun. I guess that’s the main thing. At least that’s two people in the country who are having fun.
Anyway, here’s Idina Menzel. Phew. Idina’s not singing Let It Go after all. She’s singing Baby It’s Cold Outside... with Michael Buble. And god bless the X Factor audience, they’re reacting as if they don’t understand that Michael Buble has to appear on one vaguely Christmassy episode of X Factor every year or else the world stops turning.
If I suddenly stop writing, by the way, it’s because my wife just sat on the remote control and turned the television off and then couldn’t work out how to fix it and I think I’m currently having some sort of heart attack.
After this ad break, it’ll be time for all the young parents in Britain to put their televisions on mute, because Idina Menzel will sing a song, and it’s probably going to be Let It Go, and the last thing anyone wants is for their kids to get out of bed and start singing it over and over and over and then shouting ‘I’M A SPECIAL PRINCESS’ right into their bloody faces like they have all poxy year. Bloody Frozen. Stick your bloody Frozen up your stupid arse.
Oh, you’re already home. Suit yourself.
The other act definitely in the final is... BEN. Who is also happy. Andrea and Lauren in the sing-off, then. Lauren to get voted out. OK! That’s it! You can all go home!
The first act definitely in the X Factor final is... FLEUR. Fleur reacted by screaming like she’s just stumbled in on some sort of illegal dismembering plant.
In other other news, it’s almost-result time. This is the bit where Lauren ends up in the sing-off, remember.
In other news: HOORAY, no horrible morbid group song!
Oh, there isn’t even a charity single. That’s just where proceeds of the winner’s single goes. Well, donate anyway you monsters.
Obviously if this song is crap - and it really might be - you could always just donate directly to Together For Short Lives, where proceeds of the song will go. In fact, you should, because this little film is ever so slightly heartbreaking.
Oh, I think this is the Charity Single bit. The one group song I’m not allowed to be mean about.
TRESEMME UPDATE! This week, they’re going for a straight and smooth look. Isn’t that what they’re always going for? I’m worried that Tresemme doesn’t have the wide range of results that it probably wants us to think it does.
An advert for Domino’s now, where they promise to recreate all the fun of a travelling funfair with their products. That basically means that they deliver doughnuts, and not one in every 400 customers will have their neck accidentally snapped on a negligently-operated waltzer ride, which is probably for the best.
Dermot just went in for a kiss, and Sam Bailey completely froze up. It was a particularly awkward moment and, given that Dermot literally dressed up as Dapper Laughs last night, that’s really saying something.
Sam just finished the song by basically just going “Hurrrrrrgh”. I know how she feels. That was like drowning in fog.
I miss Olly Murs.
The fact that she’s singing on a shiny plinth shaped like a coffin probably doesn’t say much about her career prospects, either.
That said, imagine if Sam Bailey was a contestant this year. Her and Andrea in the same competition. I think I’d probably kick the speakers clean out of my telly.
Ahhhh, this makes sense. Sam Bailey’s fulfilling the weekly X Factor quota for guest performers singing tedious piano dirges. Seriously, X Factor booker, the world isn’t so bad. Cheer the hell up, otherwise I’m going to drink myself to death.
Time now for the triumphant return of Sam Bailey. Or, more accurately, time for Sam Bailey to meekly attempt to remind us that she still exists before sullenly sloping off never to be heard from again. Either way, here’s Sam Bailey. Whoopty-do.
Oh, they’ve even got rid of him for this bit. This is just hurting my feelings. I demand either a bodyguard or a man with headphones. I pay my taxes!
They’ve got rid of the bodyguards, haven’t they? They want me to flail around directionlessly during this bit, don’t they? Well FINE I’ll write about that one guy with the headphones on instead then. There was a guy with some headphones just now. There he is again. He looks cool.
Interminable recap now. We are, so far, entirely free of bodyguards. But I’ll keep you posted.
A good game to play here is Which One Of Fifth Harmony Will Ditch The Others And Leave Them Hungry And Alone At The First Sniff Of A Solo Deal. My money’s on the short one in the middle.
“I pledge allegiance to my independent girls”. But doesn’t that automatically make you dependent on them, girls? Think this through, for god’s sake. And stop saying ‘Michelle Obama’ and ‘HuuuuAAAAARGH’ so often. You’re weird. Fifth Harmony, you’re weird.
Well, THIS song literally makes zero sense. I think they just said something like “When it’s my payday, I like to do the neigh-neigh”. Is pretending to be a horse something that people do when they’ve been paid? I had no idea. Now they’re talking about being on their Michelle Obama. I think this song might be about buying a replica first lady on your payday and then trotting about on it like some sort of uppity little princess. This is the weirdest song I’ve ever heard.
Here we go. One’s called Camilla. One’s called Ally. One’s called Lauren. One might be called Norman. To be honest, the names were coming up too fast.
No group song today, because we’re straight into a performance by Fifth Harmony, who were apparently an act on American X Factor in 2012. I dunno, these American acts coming over here and taking our jobs. What’s Leon Jackson supposed to eat with all this happening, huh? Baked mouse?
But let’s meet the judges:
LOUIS! Jedward tribute hair
MELB! Had her fingernails done
CHERYL! Basically just Sellotaped a couple of iguanas to her boobs
SIMON! The T-shirt of Revitalised Cowell returns!
And Dermot’s back. Level of cowpunch tonight: ostentatiously slow. This is intriguing.
Here we go! Here’s Paloma Faith singing about her noisy genitals! Here’s Dermot, surrounded by those dead-looking real dolls from The Leftovers. Here’s a load of noises and flashing lights. We’re back!
This is the first Coronation Street I’ve watched for months. If you haven’t watched it for a while either, this is basically what just happened in the last scene:
Incidentally, I’m writing this tonight drunk on power. Why? Because I’m clearly one of the most influential men on the planet right now. First, I suggested that X Factor put a shot of Ben Haenow’s sausage calligraphy in the show, and it put a shot of Ben Haenow’s sausage calligraphy in the show. Then I suggested that X Factor should try and be more current, and it made Fleur sing a song that isn’t even out yet. And now the performance is in the iTunes top five. Without hyperbole, it basically saved the entire show from certain doom.
In short, I am right about everything and X Factor should offer me a consultant producer credit next year. Thanks in advance for the suitcase full of cash, Syco!
SUNDAY SUNDAY SUNDAY
Well hello there. Thanks for coming back for the Exciting X Factor Liveblog: Sunday Night Result Show Bit. Nine weeks in and I still haven’t found a more elegant way of saying that. I am an exceptionally poor liveblogger.
But anyway, it’s good that you’re here because several important things are going to happen tonight. First, Lauren Platt is definitely going to get eliminated. Second… actually, that’s about it. The show will start, I will feign an interest in the X Factor bodyguards because I don’t know what else to do during the recap, then Lauren Platt will get eliminated, then I’ll watch Homeland. Ta-daaah!
Oh, fine, for the sake of completion, the following will also take place:
- Fifth Harmony will perform a song, even though nobody actually knows who Fifth Harmony are.
- Sam Bailey will perform a song, proving beyond all doubt that the events of X Factor 2013 weren’t just part of a horrible anxiety dream you had the night before an important meeting.
- Idina Menzel will perform the long-awaited follow-up to her Frozen smash hit Let It Go, entitled Let It Go 2: Funky Xmas.
And nothing else will happen. The show starts at 8pm, and I’d be delighted if you could keep me company for the duration. Deal? Oh, whatever.
So that is all. Tomorrow night: four become three, although hopefully not in a creepy Spice Girls way. OUTDATED REFERENCE, PLEASE REVISE.
Normal end of episode blather now. Thank commenters for keeping me amused? Check. Remind readers that the liveblog will be back at 8pm tomorrow, when guests will include Sam Actual Bailey? Check. Sneak in a cheeky link to my podcast in the hope that none of my employers read this? Check. Remind you that I’m on Twitter as @StuHeritage, and that you should all follow me? Check. That’s that, then. See you tomorrow. ONLY THE YOUNG!
And now Ben’s crying. Sick children, Hallelujah and now crying. And now the judges are slapping on the ‘You’re just a boy with a dream, and this means everything’ shtick several feet thick.
This is all too much. Literally, it’s too much. Thank god that’s it for tonight.
This is exactly what you might expect Ben Haenow singing Hallelujah to sound. Essentially, it sounds a bit like a relatively talented waste disposal unit singing Hallelujah.
Remember the year when Alexandra Burke won, and the final was just three people singing this song about 25 times in a row? That was a hard night to get through.
Hank’s singing Hallelujah. Wow. This is an X Factor big-league song. They couldn’t want him to win any more if they put him in a horrible hat, made him cry a lot and renamed him Leon Jackson.
Finally, it’s Hank Hey Now Big Package Sausage Widow Crap Me A Sausage Sausage Calligraphy Kingsley The Sausage-Eater. In the VT, Hank went to visit a childrens’ hospice. Because he CARES. Does Andrea care? No, because he spent this week watching Beyonce videos. Boooo, Andrea. BOOOO.
And now an advert where a family buys a box of biscuits and a load of cats crawl out of it. Moral: don’t buy the Mcvitie’s Victoria Selection box, because it would appear that they massively contravene most food hygiene laws.
Second prize in that competition: Louis Walsh gives you a piggyback to the 24-hour Tesco garage and back.
Now, a competition where you can actually win Simon Cowell’s car - because who doesn’t want to drive around in a Jeep that stinks of cigarette smoke and has an interior that’s riddled with thousands of loose shirt buttons?
Melb just said that Andrea could win because he touches so many people. Believe me when I tell you that it is taking every ounce of strength for me not to make an Operation Yewtree joke here.
Incidentally, if you’re interested, this remains my favourite version of Wrecking Ball. I sort of wish that Andrea had done it like this:
Poor Andrea. He’s really going for this. He’s making the same sort of noise that a minibus loaded with cats would make if it drove off a cliff. It’s maximum Andrea. But after the last performance, it looked like a fart in a hurricane.
He’s dressed, though, thank god. And he’s not licking any hammers. But he is performing some sort of elaborate prayer to a broken mirror, which is basically the same.
Andrea’s singing Wrecking Ball, because there’s only one more week of this left and he isn’t satisfied with the level of structural damage his bellowing has caused your property so far.
Also, did Andrea say he had an Auntie Titty? Amazing.
Oh, we’re back. And Andrea’s here now. In the VT, Andrea marvels about Alexandra Burke duetting with Beyonce, unaware with the fact that X Factor has lost so much stock that he’ll be lucky if he gets to sing Agadoo with Olly Murs next week.
OR JUST BUY GINGERBREAD MEN FROM SAINSBURY’S. I’M 75% CONVINCED THAT THEY SELL THEM THERE. GOD, LITTLE GIRL, YOU’RE A WEIRDO.
Now for the Waitrose advert where a little girl throws a tantrum because she can’t make gingerbread properly. HEY, LITTLE GIRL. YOU CAN BUY BLOCKS OF GINGERBREAD FOR, LIKE, A POUND. WHY DIDN’T YOU JUST BUY ONE OF THOSE, YOU TINY IDIOT?
Fun fact: whenever I worry that my liveblogging gets too positive, I check the comments. Well done, guys. I’m completely deflated again.
The judges don’t appear to know what to say to Fleur, because that was so far out of X Factor’s soggy old wheelhouse. X Factor, if you start doing stuff like this on a weekly basis, you won’t be crap any more. I might not even resent having to liveblog you any more.
More like this please, X Factor.
I don’t know if this is because I haven’t heard the song before, or whether Fleur’s suddenly got much better, but this is really good. Fleur’s attacking the song like I’ve always wanted her to attack a song. And she’s full-on dancing her arse off too. This is, I think, the best thing I’ve sen all series.
Fleur started the song on the phone to her mum, or some other sort of painfully misfiring joke. And then - by some ridiculous miracle - Fleur someone started giving the performance of her life.
Fleur’s singing Uptown Funk, which the internet tells me is Mark Ronson’s new song. God, I miss 1980s week.
Anyway, Fleur again now. And guess what? The VT is basically just Fleur’s sister holding her hand over Fleur’s face and trying to get as much screentime as she possibly can.
Cheryl thinks that Lauren’s hobbled by her lack of experience. “You’re a baby. You’re 17” she says, which I think is probably a nightmarish insight into the age that Cheryl stopped being breastfed by her mum.
Again, nobody in the audience gives even a fraction of a stuff about anything she does. Melb just said ‘that was good’ and literally one person went ‘woo’. They were being sarcastic, I think.
This is chronically underpowered, but let’s not be too mean about Lauren here. After all, X Factor clearly spunked its entire budget on the other contestants, which is why she’s wearing a pillowcase that’s had pockets drawn on it with wax crayons, and also why her backdrop is just a crappy iMovie photo montage with the ‘sepia’ setting switched on.
Lauren’s singing Story of my Life. The story of Lauren’s life, incidentally is this: Born, went on X Factor, got upstaged by her little brother, got eliminated from X Factor. THE END.
Lauren again now. In this VT, Lauren got to watch some of her old performances on TV. In olden days, she would have watched this on the Samsung Tablet On Unquestionable Failure. I wonder where that tablet is now. Getting drunk, probably. Muttering swearwords about Skype, probably.
I wonder if Charlize Theron has ever walked down a corridor without taking off her earrings and throwing them at stuff.
More adverts now. So far the highlight of the episode has been Dermot O’Leary doing Stars In Their Eyes Dapper Laughs. I hope that imitating disgraced celebrities is a thing that presenters do, because I really want to see Tess Daly dressed up like Jeremy Clarkson on Strictly next week.
Also, thanks to this recap, I’ve learned that Ben Haenow reminds me of Nick Knowles. I think I might have gone off him a bit, actually.
Right. We’re halfway through the episode. What have we learned? I don;t know about you, but I’ve learned that I hate Christmas. Who knew?
“I sang with every single part of me” said Andrea. Which is a lie. He mainly just sang with his jaw.
“That’s how to sing a Christmas carol” says Louis Walsh. This isn’t how you should sing a Christmas carol if you’re a carol singer, though. Imagine having to stand there with your front door open while someone goes ‘OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HOOOOOOOOOOOH-LEEEEEEEEAAAHAAA NAAAAAA-HAAAAA-EEEEEEEEYT” over and over again. Imagine how cold your feet would get. No thank you.
God, where to start with this? The fact that Andrea’s dressed like an unwilling pageboy? The fact that he’s standing on a plinth shaped like a wedding cake? The fact that he’s surrounded by what might actually be some of our dead relatives all dressed in white? The fact that Andrea poofaced his entire way through a song about Jesus? To be fair, probably that last one.
Andrea’s singing O Holy Night. The O vowel, the O vowel again, the E vowel and then the I vowel. Andrea’s going to DESTROY. No, literally, he’s going to destroy all your ornaments. Andrea hates ornaments.
In the VT, Dermot O’Leary takes all the semi-finalists for an Italian dinner. Which is all well and good, except for the fact that Dermot was dressed as Repentant Dapper Laughs during the meal, which really through me a loop.
Time for Andrea Faustini. I don’t know much, but I know that wearing a onesie probably saved Andrea from the sing-off last week. Making Andrea cute works. I hope this week they dress him up as Shirley Temple and get him to sing On The Good Ship Lollipop.
We are back! Dermot’s in the audience! NONNA RITA! I love her. She’s basically Antonio Carluccio. And Randy Jackson’s there. He’s not allowed to talk, though, because he’s not Nonna Rita. Nonna Rita rules.
The Boots advert. I can do a brilliant impression of this, but it doesn’t translate very well to print. Also, it’s sweary. I’ll do it in person, though, if you ask nicely. For money.
HAENOW!
They’ve also told Ben that he’s a really nice guy. This obviously means that he’s bound to turn into such a monster that he probably won’t perform next week unless the show meets his long list of requirements. Ben, if you’re reading, MAKE ONE OF THOSE DEMANDS A GIANT HOTDOG COSTUME PLEASE. Next week’s the last chance we’ve got.
The judges seem to think that this was a good performance. I don’t know. I just feel as if any song that doesn’t feature Ben cartwheeling around dressed up like a giant hotdog is a missed opportunity.
Oh, and now the song’s finished. Well, that was adequate.
Hank’s started the song outside. I was hoping that it was because this performance would end with a vast crane shot of an enormous string of sausages spelling out MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR FROM BEN HAENOW. But no. He just walked inside. I don’t know about anyone else, but I feel like I’ve been cheated out of a sausage show.
Hank’s singing Please Come Home For Christmas. His friends all want him to come for Christmas, because yelling “WOY-OY!” at women out of van windows probably just isn’t the same without him.
In the VT, NONNY RITA RETURNS. God, I love Nonny Rita. Nonny Rita and Fleur’s sister. You know, I think I’ve just had a brilliant idea for a buddy cop movie.
Up next: Hank Hey Now Big Package Sausage Widow Crap Me A Sausage Sausage Calligraphy Kingsley The Sausage-Eater. One more week of typing that out. I can DO THIS.
Very strange response from the crowd to this. Nobody’s really cheering or booing at Lauren. They’re just staring at her, like the zombies from The Returned. In fact, one of the judges just said something negative about Lauren, and the crowd actually cheered. In terms of popularity, I’d put Lauren somewhere between arthritis and a really eggy fart.
Nor do I care for the staging, which is basically Frozen if Frozen was about psoriasis instead of snow.
Why isn’t she singing the tune, though? For once, I know how this song’s actually supposed to go. It doesn’t go the way she’s doing it, which is the same way most people sing hymns in church – mumbling the verses because you can’t really remember the melody and then wildly overcompensating in the chorus. I do not care for it.
Lauren’s singing Stay Another Day. Presumably this is because she wants to stay on X Factor for another day. Deal. But then you’re out, OK?
In the VT this week, Lauren expressed heartache at the fact that she beat Stereo Kicks last week, before verbally declaring that she won’t stop until she is literally covered in the blood of her enemies. It’s a bit weird, to be honest.
We’re back. And next up is Lauren Platt. Last week Lauren revealed that being on X Factor had reunited her estranged parents. We can’t let her win on top of that, can we? That’d just be greedy.
You know what I miss? Stacey Solomon driving home for Christmas.
Anyway, ad break now. And a proper big Christmas advert: this time the one where where the English soldiers meet the German soldiers on No Man’s Land. You know the one. It’s the one where the English soldier gives the German soldier some Sainsbury’s chocolate, and then the German soldier gives the English soldier some Lidl chocolate, and then the English soldier is so disgruntles by the price disparity between their respective gifts that he runs back to the trenches and immediately resumes World War One. It’s one of my favourites.
Melb just expressed concern that Fleur didn’t make the song cooler. I agree - I’d much prefer All I Want For Christmas if it was hardcore dubstep and contained a really long rap about Tinder.
In typical Fleur fashion, this is about 15% less good than I expected it to be. It doesn’t help that I’m so distracted by her plastic dress. If the music suddenly cut out right now, the sound of creaking and squeaking would be deafening. All I want for Christmas is for Fleur to be adequately talced up tonight.
Fleur’s Christmas song is All I Want For Christmas. Incidentally, all Fleur wants for Christmas is for her sister to stop standing outside her window with a knife all night.
In the VT, Fleur goes home to have an early Christmas with her family. And, no word of a lie, she spends the entire time hiding in a room so her sister can’t get her. I promise I’m not making this up.
Anyway, first up is Fleur East. That’s unless Fleur’s sister has discovered how to synthesise her own DNA in order to create a nuclear-powered clone army of herself to destroy her sister forever. If that’s the case, I don’t really know who’s up next.
Simon’s advice, meanwhile, was ‘try to hate your competitors’. It’s the sort of thing that Old Simon Cowell would say, back in the days when he wore T-shirts instead of shirts. Maybe it’s T-shirts. Maybe T-shirts are what make Simon Cowell evil. Guys, I think I’ve cracked ALL OF X FACTOR.
Before anyone sings, the judges give the acts some advice. The advice is all a variation of ‘Sing like nobody’s listening’ which is terrible advice, because I’m pretty sure that’s what Stevi did and look what happened to him.
I wonder if ‘Santa’s little helper’ is secret X Factor code for ‘Simon Cowell’s forever slave’. I bet it does. It probably does.
Anyway, let’s meet the judges!
LOUIS! A tie!
MELB! A runaway bride!
CHERYL! A runaway bride who got caught in a tube escalator.
SIMON! NO SHIRT! THE BUTTONS WON!
Dermot’s just been described as ‘Santa’s little helper’. He did a dance, too. A proper dance. A dance... at the expense of a cowpunch. This bodes terribly for the next 90 minutes.
LAST WEEK: a bored-sounding disembodied voice talked all over the singers and judges, apparently. I can’t remember any of this happening. Am I going mad?
So Paloma Faith’s actually saying “I’ll be your queefer tonight” in the pre-title sting. Do you think it’s a dietary thing, maybe? Either way, she should probably see a doctor.
IT’S TIME! TO FAKE! THE MUSIC!
Oh, I was on the Scummy Mummies podcast this week, and we relistened to Rowetta singing MacArthur Park back in 2004. Remember when X Factor was a show where people could sing something as weird MacArthur Park, and Simon just wore T-shirts, and Dermot O’Leary was a woman, and Louis Walsh looked approximately 25 years older than he does now? Magical days. Magical days.
And in this edition of the now apparently weekly feature Someone From The Guardian Interviews Someone From X Factor, here’s Decca Aitkenhead talking to Steve Brookstein. Still no Wagner interview, but WHATEVER.
Right, I’ve done some reading up. Apparently tonight’s episode has a Christmas theme. And I’ve got to say that – for once – I am fully onboard with this decision. I’ve spent all afternoon watching Christmas films. I couldn’t be any more full of the Christmas spirit if I was slumped over hammered on a sofa right now. Which I’m not, but I guess that’s what I’ve got you lot for. Do it for me, readers. Be drunk on a sofa for me.
Good evening proud faithful, and welcome to the X Factor liveblog. The penultimate X Factor liveblog, in fact, because tonight is the semi-final. Make no mistake, this is where things really start to matter. For proof, here’s a quick timeline of what we can expect from the rest of the series:
TOMORROW: One act is eliminated.
NEXT WEEK: The final. Wembley Arena is packed to the rafters with screaming fans, big-name guest stars and producers of foodstuffs shaped like faces, as the winner of X Factor is finally crowned.
THE WEEK AFTER THAT: You all get drunk as normal, but without a page of auto-refreshed guff to keep you company. I, meanwhile, fall into some sort of exhausted coma next to the skips outside B&Q.
Anyway, I have no idea what’s going to happen tonight. I don’t know the theme, I don’t know the songs, I don’t know whether Simon Cowell has figured out how to do his bloody shirt up properly (although I assume he hasn’t). All I know is that the show starts at 8pm sharp, and I need your company like never before. You’ll be there for me, right?
