Our straight talking Lancashire lass takes a sideways look at the daily news.
Plastic Fantastic and Le Beiber Strop
Ever browse the news and come across something that stops you in your tracks and makes you splurt out your coffee? No, not BBC Radio 4 news reader James Naughtie accidentally calling the Culture Secretary Jeremey Hunt the ‘c’ word live on air this morning, although that was a laugh out loud moment. No, I read about ‘Bridalplasty’, the new reality TV show set to slither onto our screens from the States.It has the name of a horror film, and it looks like it will deliver on the Car Crash TV front.
Here, 12 brides-to-be fight it out for a ‘dream wedding’, which includes invasive cosmetic surgery and a full body overhaul.
It seems to be the natural next step from the US hit programme ‘Biggest Loser’. If you can improve your life by shedding weight, why not pull a Heidi Montag and re-sculpt your entire body? Hell, you can even have three arms if you want.
Actually, I must confess I had a moment of weakness last week. Being a perpetual dieter (interrupted with regular bouts of weekend binge eating/drinking) I caved in and checked the website of a very well known cosmetic surgery clinic for the price of liposuction. Because sit-ups suck.
I wish I hadn’t bothered – ever since my online request for a brochure, I’ve been harassed by an army of cheerful representatives bombarding me 24/7 with phone calls, eager to discuss my ‘beauty enhancement needs’. And despite my tearful requests for them to please stop ringing, they still won’t leave me alone. I get the impression that they’re not going to cave until I agree to have a boob job or something. This is what happens when you combine a bottle of Pinot Grigio and free access to the Internet…
Anyhoo, I was cheered up with reports of tween sensation Justin Bieber behaving like a 5-year-old with ADHD in public. The precocious singing brat was in a ball-achingly posh restaurant in London, where he drew a moustache on his face and flew a remote helicopter into his minder’s head, before throwing his toy on the floor and storming outside.
Some say that Bieber is only a kid and we should give the 16-year-old some slack. I say we should give him some Ritalin. And a haircut. Seriously, he looks like a lesbian.
And finally, I can’t get through Monday without mentioning last night’s X-Factor results. I don’t know about you, but I’m delighted that Mary Byrne has finally left the competition. I’m sure she’s a lovely person, but her singing irritated me more than Wagner’s arthritic hip-shaking ever did.
Why Louis Walsh ever thought that Working-Mens-Club-Meets-Ride-Of-The-Valkyries was just what the UK public needed is beyond me. Still, Mary’s days in the X-Factor Sun are over. She’ll get to go on tour next year, but I don’t have to see that so I don’t care.
What about you good folks? Did the right person survive or should Mary have stayed in the competition?