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(1) I am watching the extended act of desecration and necromancy that is The X-Factor's Michael Jackson night. I beg the contestants neither to sing Earth Song nor attempt to moonwalk. Particularly that pasty chuffer Olly Murs.
They're playing Disney wish fulfilment music behind Joe McElderry's intro. I think they think he's going to win. He's going to win despite a musical backing which even Luther Vandross would have rejected as emetically sweet in 1983.
They're not even trying to find synonyms for "this could be the most important song I ever sing" any more.
(2) David Beckham is advertising for the California tourist board or whatever it's called now. They must be rich – they're buying advertising time in X-Factor. He's been everywhere lately. Yesterday he was at the World Cup draw, him, Charlize Theron, and some suit from FIFA.
It's a pretty good draw for England next summer; the headline in The Sun this morning:
Oh, Sun, Sun, you've heard of hubris, surely. They seem to be forgetting that the United States is one of the few teams to beat the European Champions, Spain, and to put two past Brazil. It's not going to be an easy game. Slovenia eliminated Russia in the play-offs. The Sun has England in the World Cup final already. Anyway, it's a kind draw, but not an easy one.
(3) Oh The Thick of It, how are you the best thing on my TV all week, every single week? I would never have believed you could make me feel sorry for Malcolm fucking Tucker
Jeg er trett. Ha det.