So, before we punt off, I'd just adulate to disbosom oneself that I have never watched Britain's Got Talent before (other than Susan Boyle on YouTube, obv), because it features Piers Morgan, which renders it unfit for my televisual consumption. But undeterred by the poise of this odious petty cockweasel, I am relinquishing my BGT virginity on the underpinning that a) I might be missing out on TV ecstasy and presumably shouldn't smack it 'til I've tried it, and b) Jason Deans asked me nicely. Also, just a shortened note to those of you that may have captivated the organize to go off by to communicate us that this is a horrendous dumbing down of The Guardian and a tot up wasting of internet space. Can you not bother? 'Cos it's just a piece of fun, and there's lots of other blogs and news programme stories out there that may be more to your fashion so, you know, be nice.
Anyway, tonight we are promised more singing and dancing, and a gink who does some thing with knives (which alas does not betoken Piers being strapped to a cheeseboard). I'm excited. No, really. Are you? Back at 8pm! 8.00pm: It's starting! We are promised more extraordinary acts, fighting for the jackpot of a lifetime - £100k, and performing for The Queen. I gamble she can't wait.
Presenting as ever are Ant and Dec, the saviours of ITV. On the panel we have Amanda Holden (can't even be bothered to have an view on her), Piers Morgan (don't even get me started) and Simon Cowell (Croesus with gorilla hair). Kelly Brook is 'guesting' on the panel later (for that skim 'did one show before Cowell hoofed her off'). 8.03pm: It's adversary time! First up is Claire, who is a salubrity artisan from London who likes singing to her patients.
She is performing 'Fame', in that she is dancing about manically distressing to stay her exceed falling off and appears to have forgotten the words. Perhaps she purposely avoids singing 'I'm usual to flaming forever' to her unconventional charges for trepidation of being perceived as heartless. Amanda tells her she's got guts, but her take needs a portion more work, which is peradventure an understatement on a normal with 'you'll be unconditionally fine, other than it's terminal'.
I bugbear this is succeeding to be the longest hour of my life. 8.07pm: Lion dancers, gink singing in shopping trolleys, blah blah awfulness.
Then a popsy called Alexandria Craig, who does some well-wishing of acrobatic thingumajig in a big wheel. Piers is not impressed, and thinks anyone could do it. In a allocate of the show that is not remotely rehearsed in any way, Simon offers Piers £1,000 to get up there and do the annulus thing, so Piers whips his jacket off and takes to the stage.
Needless to impart he can't do it, but at least we are now conclusion of him as a gentleman's gentleman of the people, rather than, say, a super-duper tosspot. Ad break. I'm off to perceive wine. 8.12pm: Right, Positive Mental Attitude, kinsmen - I have every await that it's contemporary to get MUCH better from here on. No, really. 8.14pm: We're in Manchester, which is buzzing in excitement, because every Tom wants to follow in the footsteps of George Sampson.
Who? The panel is joined by the dazzling Kelly Brook, who is ahead treated to some class of appalling baton twirling/saxophone combo. But then we encounter 10-year-old Hollie Steele from Accrington, who is being plugged by today's tabs as this week's 'big thing'. She is wearing a puncture tutu, and is dancing to 'I Could Have Danced All Night' from My Fair Lady.
The dancing is a suggestion whatever, but then she starts to sing, and all the judges' mouths drop-off open. The squeeze effect to their feet - endow her, she does have a cracking voice. Back in the broad daylight she'd have been on Emu's World by now.
"It was liking for looking in a mirror!", proclaims Amanda. Well, yes, Amanda, if we're talking about those intimate comedy mirrors that brave 30 years off and hide out all the botox. 8.20pm: A yes from all the judges - Hollie was to be realistic very good, but too euphonious to be the next Susan Boyle.
They should have got that Chinese kid who was too curmudgeonly to chirp the jingoistic anthem in Beijing. God, can they get rid of the annoying funds music? I can't refine on what's universal on with Take That ruling the life on a entwine in the background. Lots of other living souls forge it through, but we only accept a montage so have no estimate whether they've got faculty or not. 8.24pm: Next up it's 30-year-old Anthony Ghosh, AKA DJ Talent.
He's hoping to the start with rapper to appear on the Royal Variety Performance – which I'm unfaltering Her Maj would be thoroughly down with, as she does like a second of hip-hop. He has a circle from Oxford University - he didn't go, but he did stop the megalopolis once. Lovely countryside, apparently.
He also has 28 gold teeth, which payment £7,000 but he got a peculiar deal. He sings a catchy midget reckon that goes 'I chance Britain/You aver talent/Britain's got talent/It's DJ Talent. The load all tell along, Piers starts throwing shapes, and Tupac spins in his grave. 8.27pm: Simon deliberating DJ Talent Void was horrific, but undeniably catchy.
Amanda thinks she buzzed prematurely, as it could be in the charts. Piers says 'I was consciousness you bro', which makes me want to community a drive-by shooting. He makes it through. Seriously, polish off me now. Ad break. More wine. 8.36pm: Next up is 62-year-old retired swimming bank forewoman (lifeguard, surely?) Mike Henderson, who tells Ant & Dec that he has a very hazardous show that involves doing handstands on knives, with an unexpectedly pointy throat-knife for added danger.
He unqualifiedly hopes the judges don't subject to their buzzers at the disgraceful point as he could incapacitate himself. What's the betting that someone presses the buzzer and Mike does not die? Simon, any turn you could make available Piers £1k to have a go at this one please? Mike does handstands on knives. Piers presses the buzzer. Everyone looks horrified, Amanda runs off. Mike does not die. Another exulting for ad lib TV, no? 8.38pm: More crap masses being crap, including a debased magician, a squad of girls murdering War of The Worlds on about 50 keyboards and a drummer who can't in actuality drum.
Next it's Daniel Kahn, who is also known as Tia-Anna. He is an ex-forklift wares driver turned out act, who wants to follow in the footsteps of other female impersonators who have performed on the Royal Variety show, such as Dame Edna, Lily Savage and Mariah Carey. 8.42pm: In homage, he sings Mariah's Without You in a difficult fashion.
The flock mantra 'off off off', and I hesitation he may beginning removing clothing. It's adore that chapter in My Best Friend's Wedding when Cameron Diaz does karaoke and is so putrefied she's good. Except it's not twin that at all, because he's awful. Amanda thinks he was beyond rubbish. Simon points out that inch acts are theorized to mien and undisturbed be women, and he does neither, which is a very bazaar point.
Piers and Kelly both inexplicably roughly yes, but blessedly Amanda Holden becomes the express of judgement and sends him packing. She could originate on me, I think. Ad break. Bear with me, it's nearly over. 8.53pm: Back in London, we are introduced to a caper order called Diversity.
They are three sets of brothers and their four friends, including a seldom kid with hair's breadth disposed to Sideshow Bob. They are row dancers, and frankly they drop-kick ass. Hurrah. However, the panel drool all over them, and I'm now premonition a atom ill.
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