X-Factor Saga

Simon’s mind has finally been made up,

From his American dream he must wake up,

With Danni Minogue,

No longer in vogue,

Our judging panels in need of a shake up.

The UK show Simon must sacrifice,

Gary Barlow will now dole out advice,

It does slightly seem,

The shows jumped extremes,

From Mr Nasty to Mr too Nice.

Cheryl flew out to US X-Factor,

But the press there just seemed to attack her,

Her Newcastle tones,

Lead to some groans,

One week later Simon eventually sacked her.

So with Cheryl feeling the rub,

She’s gave the UK an almighty snub,

But this panel must have,

Some kind of chav,

So Simons brought in the girl from N-Dubz.

Kelly Rowland just seems so mild,

Makes Gary Barlow’s lifestyle seem wild,

By far it’s reckoned,

She’d be everyone’s second,

Choice of judges from Destiny’s Child.

Louis Walsh has clung on to his place,

He serves as the familiar face,

He always gets slated,

He’s nobody’s favourite,

He’s just there to fill up the space.

So with a new judging panel all planned out,

We’ll see how these changes will pan out,

But with no Simon Cowell,

They should throw in the towel,

The shelf life of this shows surely ran out.

The Apprentice

Lord sugars returned, as ever he’s spurned, to discover a bright business mind,

A new load of contestants, natter on so incessant, about how they are one of a kind.

So with all belts been tightened, graduates become frightened, job hunting just gets so tiring,

Lord Sugar’s an exception, during the recession, he’s the only one who seems to be hiring.

He axes each player, like a Jewish Darth Vader, he’s had 6 pad wans help him so far,

They must be the best, to help him in his quest, and build his Kosher Death Star.

Good old Sir Alan, sets them a challenge, as they all try and outdo each other,

But most fail in this mission; it becomes an audition, to discover the next chuckle brothers.

He’s made them sell meat, and massage people’s feet, and sell crisp flavours off to the Germans,

 Though they all look like fools, and despite ridicule, makes these gobshites far more determined.

And if they are so clever, then why do they never, question the challenges Sir Alan setting,

Why does nobody ask, when doing the tasks, how this relates to the position their getting?

He don’t think it’s funny if you squander his money, his face goes redder than Hell Boys,

He goes slightly bonkers and calls them all plonkers, like he’s suddenly turned into Del Boy.

And who could really blame this grumpy Sid James, with all the fuck ups he’s seen,

Get rid of these cunts, call off the job hunt, and just hire old Mr Bean.

Cheryl sacked / Geordie Shore

Cheryl thought she had the job, but Simon was a liar,

He turned into Sir Alan Sugar, and told her she was fired.

They said her accent was too strong, so she tried not to speak,

She’s not the first Geordie to lose their job in less than a week.

So please don’t get depressed Cheryl, peel yourself up from the floor,

They’ll always be a place for you back at Geordie Shore.

Ok she’s a laughing stock, she’s feeling under the weather,

The lassies and lads of Geordie Shore will piece her back together.

They’ll take her oot way doon the toon, buy her Bacardi breezers,

She’ll end the night with a quick snog with some random Geordie geezer.

Let Cheryl back comb up her hair, and wear them purple flairs,

It’s Friday night in Newcastle who the hell is gonna care??

Last week on the sunset strip, down Hollywood she drove,

Yet one week on she’s all pissed up and going down the Grove.

This gang will put our Cheryl straight, pissed Geordies do act brashly,

They’ll even confiscate her phone to stop her texting Ashely.

They evenings going perfectly, but make sure nothing spoils it,

They’ll each have to play chaperone when Chez goes to the toilet.

Cheryl don’t need the LA life, flash cars and fancy shops,

Who needs Paula Abdul when you’ve kebabs and Alcopops?

She’ll get back to normal; she’s still a Geordie through and through,

As first thing Monday morning, she’s signing on the brew.

Made in Chelsea

A docusoap on the well to do, their privileged lives on show,

It’s the only way is essexs in a tux and dickie bow.

A group of spoiled rich kids swan round London’s lavish parts,

Spending daddy’s money and spouting affairs of the heart.

The resemblance to the Essexs show is really quite uncanny,

Accept we have more upturned cunts, in Dolce and Armani.

They’re just normal people, with common problems and pet peeves,

Like should they summer in the mountains, and Christmas in the Maldives?

These toff nosed types are awful, and their ratings took a hammerin’,

It’s like The Hills has been remade but by the hands of David Cameron.

Is this show a telly treat? A recipe for success?

It’s not so much crème de la crème, but more an Eton Mess.

For all its wealth and posturing this whole show is a farce,

It’s the trash show equivalent of Pippa Middleton’s plump arse.

Yes it’s just a cheap thrill, and we sneaked a guilty peek,

But it’s all just silly gawping at a load of brazen cheek.

Cheerio Made in Chelsea, this show aint been a hit,

Let’s hope a double dip recession bankrupts all these little shits.

Gaga

Yellow haired hermaphrodite, she was Born this Way,

Wearing wacky outfits and making pop songs for the gays.

She’s become a fashion icon, a term that makes us wince,

Her style has been quite literally just a load of mince.

She’s most famous for that meat dress, made her a mega star,

She doesn’t need Versace, just her local abattoir.

She outshone all her rivals, her shoes where honey roasted ham,

Madonna had her own meat theme, mutton dressed up as lamb.

She made quite the impact, she wore that dress with ease,

Most stars get styled by Gucci, and not Mayor McCheese.

Smelling just like pork chops, stray dogs try to mount her,

Serves her right for buying a dress from Morrison’s meat counter.

She got the vegans raging; they launched long and vicious rants,

But they’ve never been that bothered by the hot dog in her pants.

Snide remarks she is a man has left the Gaga hurtin’,

But does she have some giant meatballs in place of her beef curtains?

As her ego swallows up the world, and with all the hype around her,

She can be brought back down again, Grill her bout her quarter pounder.

She’s got that meat dress in her show, she think’s she’s gonna tour it,

It’s what’s really caused the e-coli that’s sweeping throughout Europe.

Britains Got The Hoff

Singing kids and dancing dogs are once more on our screens,

BGT tries once again to find an act fit for the Queen.

To find talent for Her Majesty, something that will excite her,

And we’ve placed this task into the hands of none other than Knightrider?

He’s just so indecisive; can he spot the hidden stars?

He runs every decision he must make past his talking car.

He’s just a dumb American, with a tendency to waffle,

His input is redundant, his contribution Hoff –all.

He’s not quite fit to be a judge, he’s left the viewers frowning,

Hope he brought his Baywatch gear to stop this show from drowning.

He’s just a silly 80’s icon, he lacks the pedigree,

Simon should have gone all out and just got Mr T.

You did your very best sir, and for that we will scoff,

Now quickly pack your bags David, & promptly bugger Hoff.

Jordan and Leandro

Jordan’s bagged herself a new man, as her last 2 hubbys vanish,

They’ll be no fights with this new guy though, he only talks in Spanish.

The young fools named Leandro and he can’t speak English well,

She likes to push her men around, she’s found her own Manwell.

How do this pair communicate, it just seems slightly funny?

It works because they both know how to speak the language of fast money.

Because his English is so bad, they interact with movements,

Her last hubby spoke in grunts and moans, so this is an improvement.

They flew out to his homeland; his folks have finally seen her,

And as he left he sang to them ‘Don’t cry for me Argentina’,

This keeps her in the public eye, her only motivation,

She gets some press and he gets fame, a win win situation,

She’ll dump him then have surgery; it’s the story of her life,

So to break this endless cycle will you please take this advice:

Date who you like, carve up your face, the public just wont accept you,

But it wont fill the hole that’s been in your soul since Peter Andre upped and left you.