25/11/2011 19:40 GMT | Updated 24/01/2012 05:12 GMT

Driven Mad By the X Factor

However many hours it takes to watch a series of X Factor, I have to double it. Let me explain...

This is the first X Factor for which I don't have a TV. It's not intentional, I move about a lot, I have all of Curb Your Enthusiasm on my laptop and I can't afford to buy one.

This means that in 2011, I haven't seen a single X Factor episode live.

Yet, despite that, I join the X Factor Twitter debate every Saturday and Sunday night even though I'm oblivious to what's really happening.

I'm a terrible human, I'm like Fred the Shred taking in all of your TV licenses and eavesdropping on your conversation. It's not clever, it's definitely not - it's 100% WTF.ORG?!

Rest assured that I'm paying for my deception. I am investing double the time in this series. I'm fake watching X Factor in real time, then I'm actually watching X Factor in extra time. Have you ever asked how many hours there are in a series of X Factor? 50? 65? (Not including Xtra Factor on ITV2 - that's overkill.)

It's hard to say how many hours are in a series because we're mentally impaired as a result of it all. How could we possibly work it out? Where would we begin? It's hardly like I'm going to pull a bag of garden peas out the freezer right now and count how many peas there are in the bag...

I'd get a headache, I'd lose count and the process would make me ask fundamental questions about my life.

I can't remember the last time I wasn't making weekends long enough to allow for X Factor episodes. Twitter aside, my Saturday night doesn't - as Dermot attests - start right here. No. My Saturday night ends right here, in bed, laptop on lap, cereal bowl on chest, at 2.30am beginning to gorge myself with ITV Player, getting a milk goatee from missing my mouth while Tulisa admits she doesn't know why Aretha Franklin's famous.

I don't care if it was 2-4-1 in some bar tonight, or if I saw someone drunkenly touch their nose with their tongue on the bus home...

My Saturday night lives and dies on whether ITV Player has managed to upload the episode in time. Because what if not, ITV Player? If not, there is no time to catch up in time for the for the next time the X Factor is taking up my time.

I'm trapped in Logan's Run. I'm constantly running out of time, trying to keep up with it. If I fall out the loop, it'll be game over and I'll die.

There should be a government health warning: "If you're considering watching X Factor, ask whether you have the stamina to persevere." Is this really worth it?

Now faced with five remaining contestants, I realise, no. I don't care who wins. None of them have a chance of global success; if Robbie Williams, if Oasis couldn't crack America, what is an Irish lass with a name like Janet Devlin going to do?

Amelia Lily is our homegrown version of Hanna Montana and that's going to work clearly, because being American was the only thing stopping Hanna Montana from UK chart domination...

Little Mix could fill a gap in the market for a girl band if they were more appealing than a pack of Haribo. But as your mother might say about their singing, "Yeah, but what do they look like."

Misha B is the only contestant with singing chops and 'star quality'. But the British public are bad at voting and don't like talented people and they've made their mind up about that so let's move on...

Marcus Collins with his Cheshire Cat smile and Broadway dancing has the charisma of your favourite uncle at a wedding reception, and - compared with Frankie Cocozza - he sounds like Sammy Davis, Jr. But just as Olly Murs wasn't Frank Sinatra, Marcus Collins is not Sammy Davis,

Jr. Marcus Collins will, at best, replace Olly Murs as presenter of the Xtra Factor. But I wouldn't know about that if it happened, would I? I DON'T HAVE TIME TO WATCH XTRA FACTOR.

So what have I gained this year? I've already exhausted use of Kelly's phrase "put it down". I haven't learned anything from Tulisa. I know everything that's going to come out of Louis' mouth before he does. I give myself whiplash every time I look at Gary Barlow's awkward neck posture.

As far as anyone having the 'X Factor' is concerned, the contestants barely factor into my reasons for watching this series. In conclusion, it's been a total waste of double time; time that would have been better spent fixing the world so that next year I can afford a television.