Our straight talking Lancashire lass takes a sideways look at the daily news.
Plastic Fantastic and Le Beiber Strop
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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?
