X-Factor

Ok folks, it's that time of the year again. That's right, you've guessed it,  the corporate engineered machine that is X-factor is back on our boxes for the entertainment of the masses. The kind of machine where you put a pig in one end and sausages come out the other. It's mildly humorous when Dermot O'Leary is on screen too, because you always catch a glimmer of self loathing and guilt in his expression, a self realisation slowly eating him up inside that he is part of something immoral.

Isn't it just getting shitter each year, ever feeling more generic than the last? Louis is getting more senile, Gary is still talking in his monotonous manchunian ways and Tulisa and Nicole are still every bit annoying as they are relatively pleasing to the eye (wahey). But wait, we have the arrival of a guest judge (once again). Who could it be? It's Mel B everybody! One fifth of the girl group that rocketed to mega super poppy stardom. Fantastic.

Now if you haven't gathered already, I'm one for cynicism. But Mel B takes it to a whole new level.  Don't get me wrong, when something needs to be said then it should be. But there is telling somebody how it is, and then there's doing it by spitting in their face, killing their cat, and taking a big steamy dump in their immediate presence while doing it in the process. The latter is most certainly the method of Mel B.

But seriously, where does she get off? "Yeh no totally Mel B, I'll definitely take on board your critism of me as a solo artist, taking into consideration the illustrious solo career you fulfilled post spice girls. Yeh. Cheers."

She clearly  isn't a people person. I can envision her sitting all alone in her big house, surrounded by cats watching Beverly hills cop over and over again on a massive television wondering where it all went wrong.

Scary.