Monday, 31 December 2012

Top of the Pops New Years Eve

I've written that title just as they have on the TV listing; no need for commas, dashes, or any other punctuation when you have offcuts from the dried old turkey you served us up on Christmas day to try and stuff down our neck again. It's all new stuff? Don't kid a kidder.
Oh yeah, here's Girls Aloud. At least they're doing the one with a tune this time. I mean, it has a tune compared to the other one, not to something actually with a tune.
So, I have to tell you, I'm not going out tonight. My boyfriend is working, my best friend is pregnant, and other offers haven't exactly been flying in (can't think why). So here's what I'm gonna do: get up at 7am when my boyfriend gets in and celebrate New Year then. We'll probably have midnight about midday. So I'll be tucked up before any fireworks go off tonight. I'll tape all the rubbish TV, shut the curtains and just watch it all tomorrow. It could be a LONG day. Or a short, messy one.
Anyway, less about my personal life, here's Ellie Goulding. Was she on the Xmas day show? I don't remember seeing her enormous face there. An undercut does not a popstar make. Oh, she's forgotten to put her trousers on like Arg in the live TOWIE (disclaimer: I do not watch TOWIE, just watched 5 minutes to see what the hoo ha was about). ANYTHING COULD HAPPEN! sings Ellie. Except for the BBC being called into account for aiding and abetting a paedophile for a few decades. And a decent song coming on this TOTP. Apart from those two things, anything could happen.
I'm drinking and eating chocolate now, so I guess NYE has begun, even if it's my stunted little gnarled version of it. Just spoke to my best friend on the phone and she's going to bed now because she's got to get up at 4am to go to work, so things could be worse. Her boyfriend is staying in too. We're a useless lot!
LOL, Script dude who looks like Peter Andre is talking in an American accent. This song made me bellow with laughter the first and only time I heard it before this. You can be an astronaut... it's like this prick and are your primary school careers advisor. Go work in a call centre instead. Is Willy going to beam in? Hologram? Or just a sick note? YOU CAN BE A CHAMPION. 'Be truth seekers' is my favourite line. Has William been going on about UFOs again? Don't go to McDonalds with him, he nearly did a Brian Harvey on Cheryl Cole last time. If you like this song, go to the doctors. Your marbles have fallen out.
They are mentioning some singers who died this year. Don't suppose I should make a joke about that. Jubilee; blah, lizard queen, blah. Next. I want to say something funny about Reggie and Fearne but there's nothing to say. They're so bland they make my humour chip dry up.
Oh Christ, it's pop's sourest female talent judge, Tulisa. Who is writing her tweets? She's completely illiterate. Is it OK for her to make death threats etc on there? Good example! That and the bag snatching. Great choice of the new 'nations sweetheart', Simon. This song is equally catchy and annoying like Saturday Night by Whigfield. This isn't her sort of music. Where's the URBAN? Louis Walsh is going to turn on, think that's urban, and get all confused and unnecessary. I went to Ibiza this year and playing in the clubs were Tulisa, Kaiser Chiefs and Sting. And here ends that sentence.
Next up, the Macabees. These do seem to be different bands to who were on the Xmas day show, well except Girls Aloud. Who are the Macabees? Have I even spelt that right? The Macabees, The Vaccines, Ed Sheeran, it's all just music for people who don't like music, not like that good stuff we used to have, like Marion and Mansun and Menswear. Not sure this guy's hair is naturally jet black. His barnet is like Nick Cave meets Steve McDonald. Now there's a collision Street Cars aren't insured for. Maca-blees. Imagine going to their gig? I'd rather go to Tulisa's. NEXT!
Now for Taylor Swift, who's not really there. This song is catchy, catchier than a zombie virus. I put in the same box as that Call Me Maybe bullshit. You'll be singing it later, but you'll want to stab yourself in the eye for it. I can never quite get over her teeth. She looks like Bugs Bunny. I know they've got dentists in America, because they did Brandon's veneers, right? Does anyone REALLY believe she's fucking Harry Styles? That kid's got more beards than a Father Christmas convention. It makes me sick the way magazines sexualise One Direction. THEY ARE CHILDREN. They might be barely legal but it's still fucking sick. The talking bit in this song makes me cringe, too. 'I was like, whatever.' Yeah, whatever, Taylor, stop sleeping around, who do you think you are, Rhianna? Of course, it's alright for Harry Styles, because he's a man, and he's gay anyway, so it's not really happening. Come back Jonas Brothers, all is forgiven. I do like the Breaking Bad parody of this song, though, and it makes me go 'ooh, Heisenberg' whenever I hear it, so it's not all nuclear war and famine.
Who the fuck are Stooshy? Stooshe?! Is that Emile Sande again, smuggling herself back in under false pretences. 'Daddy, I'm falling for a monster, he's scaring me to death, he's big and he's bad, he's the best I've ever had'. Please tell me I just hallucinated those lyrics. Fuck, I'm going to have to pause and go and get a vodka. Is this like a doo wop song about domestic violence? These lyrics are creepier than 'He hit me and it felt like a kiss'. Plus, why would you tell your parents 'he's the best I ever had'? TMI! Need to know basis! One just screeched at the end 'he got a dirty black heart'. There's probably an explicit version of this song. This is fucked in the head. Agog.
Next up, Tiny 'he's got so many clothes he keeps some at his aunt's house' Tempah and Calvin 'boring' Harris. This is dance music for people too thick to work out how to find where any proper dance music resides online. 'Tonight we're drinking from the bottle!' Yeah, probably other people's. At least Tiny seems to have a sense of humour, what with those clothes and everything. Calvin (worst popstar name ever) just seems to have got lost on his way to accounts. What a knob twiddler. This song is making me SO GLAD I'm not going out tonight. People. Tubes. Music. Urgh. Just pass the valium and let's sleep through the lot of it.
Next up is Arlissa, or Shakira with no trousers on, if you prefer. I don't.
Oh fucking hell, it's Robbie Williams again. Thanks for making the last part of 2012 unbearable, you fat odious fuckface. He also ruined the first few seconds of the new Millennium for me, as the club I was in (Passion!) played a dance version of, you guessed it, Millennium. Motherfuckers. Oh well, his lyrics are always a good laugh. He looks jaundiced. Hopefully he's dying. I know it sounds harsh, but if it was him or Gary hanging off a cliff, you know who you'd save. You know!
What has he got in his hand? Is he conducting? Imagine being in Robbie Williams' backing band. You'd honestly be better off working in an abattoir, wouldn't you? It would be less morally abhorrent.
This song doesn't even have any funny lyrics, it's just blahblahblahblah. Go fish those bodies out of the Bodhi tree, you fucking tortoise.
Ah, finally. I like this Rita Ora song. I never used to admit I liked any pop music, this year I've actually confessed to a few guilty pleasures. My boyfriend likes Diamonds by Rhianna but only the 'shine bright like a diamond' backing bit. Rita's looking a bit more presentable tonight, but still a bit like she's wearing a 6-year-old's quilt cover. Rita. It's not exactly a rock and roll name, is it? Next up, it's Mavis with Deathsticks!
Next up are the Rizzle Kicks. I've got a bad feeling about this. I thought Rizzle Kicks was a person, like Dizzie Rascal. Oh Lord, there's a onesie, and a Burberry scarf. Mama do the hump? Fuck off.
And now James Arthur is back again, reanimated. Have they fixed his teeth yet? No, it's just the same performance they showed on Christmas Day. Oh, so he did finally get to number one. Knocked those poor dead children off the top spot did you, hey, Cowell? I hope you're pleased with yourself. Happy New Year, you bastard.

No comments: