Christmas is just around the corner and so too is the X Factor Final. But first, as the tension grows, (in my best Peter Dickson voice) it's the Semi Final.
There's a phrase in environmental politics called Nimbyism, which stands for Not In My Back Yard. In essence it means that people want renewable energy projects such as wind farms to be built, provided of course, they aren't built anywhere near them...
While in theory, it sounds like a dream job for any gay journo to spend a week locked in the studio as a parade of ripped, chiseled, gay and straight bodies trail in and out, the reality is that it's bloody hard work. No, honestly.
Simon Cowell's TV talent-show format has grown tired and exhausted. There are only so many accusations of fixing results and sob stories the nation can take. Cowell's vow to 'shake up' the show for next year begs the question: will anyone care enough to watch it?
It may not be 50 yet but, 10 years on and the X Factor is still going strong. This weekend it's a celebration of everything X Factor past and present, from the acts to the judges to the smiles and the tears. Thank you for making Saturday nights worth staying in for!
Is there anyone else out there? Or am I the only living being in the entire galaxy who's been left totally unmoved by the current outbreak of Doctor Who-steria? Don't get me wrong: I have nothing against the good Time Lord... It's just that I don't get it (him).
I think the bigger issue is not how offended the gay community will be when a so called 'celebrity' lets rip with a homophobic rant but more the reasons why grown men deem being a receiver of swollen goods anything less than a life style of utter fabulousness?
Now alongside Sam Bailey, Tamera Foster is one of my personal favourites but she looked uncomfortable with her song and at one point forgot the words. Yes she pulled it around and yes she still hit the high notes out of the park, but it just felt flat after the error.
This week the acts are laid bare, no backing tracks and nowhere to hide. Just the power of a thirty piece big band for company. And how impressive th...
It's time to get out those flared trousers and platform shoes... fluff up the hair and put the roller skates on... it's disco week.
Yep. So get out your tissues, top up your mascara, and sob your heart out, because we are now a nation of emotional wrecks, but proud?
There is absolutely nothing malicious in any facet of Bake Off. The contestants all seem to get along swimmingly, warmly congratulating each other on successes and commiserating with evictees rather than bounding off stage toward the next round, fists pumping.
Hannah Barratt took on a big Adele song and pulled it out of the bag. Fantastic vocal performance from a young starlet, destined to be a big success in the industry.
Last weekend we went back in time to the eighties. This week it's all about the love and heartache.
We reality TV lovers are acutely aware that the drama is contrived, the feuding friendships fake and the romances - well they are real obviously - and we love the shows for that. Who actually wants to see real life when they come in from work?
The first live show brings so much pressure, so much in fact, even I'm sweating and I'm not even singing. The theme tonight is the 80's so get out your leg warmers and fingerless gloves...