Britney Spear’s Double Chin, And Other Reasons To Watch X Factor
The “no” heard round the world.
It really is Britney, bitch. I can’t believe I’m writing this. Moreover, I can’t believe I’m feeling it. But the new X Factor is a damn good show. I don’t normally like these stupid “sing your heart out” “become a national phenomenon” “get eye-fucked by Simon Cowell’s rock lizard lazy eyes so hard your ass hurts” shows, mostly because when I sing I sound like a cat being water-boarded. I think American Idol is pretentious and over-rated and The Voice should really be called “Adam Levine’s ego Versus Christina Aguilera’s fat ass”. And there is nobody that I HATE more than Howie Mandell, so much that when I saw him walking into a hotel in the Upper West Side the other day I actually thought about spitting on him. X Factor did something different though, and combined part reality show, part singing competition. You get to know the both the judges and contestants personally (including fights between both) which was genius on Simon Cowell’s part. Was I sober when I watched it? Of course not. But I didn’t switch over to Family Guy once during two consecutive episodes of X Factor. That says something. Here are several more reasons you should watch:
Britney Spears has mastered the stink face. She gives me “I just smelled a fart in a thrift-store dressing room” face so hard it gives me blue balls.
Her chest looks like the backside of a liver-spotted Florida grandmother that has a tanning bed in her living room. I finally get that Britney just truly, truly doesn’t give a shit. And its awesome. Strut those Ugg’s woman, strut those Uggs.
I love her anyway. This isn’t the skinny, sexy Britney from back in the day (sidebar, I think everyone remembers where they were when they first heard a Britney song–in that way she is just like 9/11). This is a new Britney. And she’s a total bitch (and totally lovable). My favorite quote from her (said to a contestant): “I am uncomfortable with you even staring at me right now”.
Simon Cowell flirts with, and is probably sleeping with Demi Lovato. Does thinking about his British baby-hands all over her young latina (or whatever–what kind of latina has blond and pink ombre hair?) gross me out? Yes. But somehow their flirting doesn’t disgust me.
Demi and I actually have a lot in common. For instance we are the same cup size.
They have a gay Randy Jackson that actually has clout in the music industry. His name is LA Reid and he reminds me of the gay black guy from Sweet Home Alabama.
Look at you. You have a baby. In a bar.
I actually like Demi Lovato now. I never thought I would say that. I never thought it was possible. Until now, the only thing I knew about her is that we would probably get along because of her bitchin coke habit. But I actually like her now. Hell hath frozen the fuck over. I WILL NOT condone her horrible ombre fringe jacket coupled with her horrible ombre fringe hair. How many Jewish grandmother’s lampshades had to die to make this outfit?
Surpassed only by Cat Deeley as “TV personality most in need of a stylist with a meth habit”.
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