Thursday, 20 February 2014

Some Americans and a porcine presenter

I have this amazing short story in my head - that might actually turn into something more - but apparently until I can write it I have to write about how much the Brits annoyed me last night. 

I know, it's futile and pointless and why don't I just not watch it if I hate it so much, right? Because it's tradition. Like the Eurovision. And pretending to like my family at Christmas. It's just something I do. I've always done it, I will always do it. Although I can only say that with confidence as James Corden announced it was his last Brits last night. 

I'm not sure how long he's been presenting them but it feels like at least the last five million Brits have been headed by his particularly piggy brand of charm. I don't like to be mean about someone's looks but for him I'll make an exception. He was dire. Charmless, unfunny, awkward, dull, sycophantic. Oink oink. He may as well have just said OINKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK to Pharell Williams. It would have made more sense than whatever the hell he was doing with his stupid hat. 

Every time he sat at a table 'chatting' to the famous types you could feel everyone there and everyone watching clenching their cheeks in embarrassment. Horrible, dreadful awkwardness. 

He managed to call Beyonce shit, make Kylie look like she wanted to be anywhere else but there and be upstaged by that rancid waste of space, Keith Lemon. The tumbleweed was dense. You could see it everywhere. I think, all in all, the viewer at home suffered more as it's clear that everyone there was absolutely battered by half time. 

One Direction won some things - interestingly, they won for a song that was apparently co written by Corden himself - who knew he was so multitalented? NOT ME. Talking of 1D, they've grown haven't they? I remember when they were wee pasty things mewling at Cowell and Co and just a few short years later here they are, all dressed like Noel Coward and carefully nonchalant about the whole thing. They act and talk like they're the fucking Beatles. One of them, the one with the big hair, even chose their award moment to go to the loo to have, as he said, a 'wee'. It wasn't a wee was it Harry? It was a big pile of coke snorted off a buxom model wasn't it? We know what you're at m'laddo. 

Other than them there were a few bands that I've never heard of. I don't listen to Radio 1 ever and I just had no clue. One of them seemed sort of Coldplay light and the other was extremely 'urban', which I always find a bit uncomfortable with English people. 

And then there were a shit tonne of Americans. Beyonce. Katy Perry. Pharrell Williams and his extremely boring hat. Presumably he's wearing it to give him some height. Talking of tiny Americans, Prince and Bruno Mars as well. Corden did an amusing 'selfie' thing with Prince. Prince looked the epitome of unimpressed. We all did. 

What's with the many, many American presenters. Beyonce looked unbelievable and belted out some heinous song. Katy Perry looked all quirky and mad and bawled out something or other. Probably about girl power or something. She has a terrible voice but is very pretty. 

A while later one of the 1D children asked everyone in the audience to 'give it up for James Corden'. Literally no one did. 

 



1 comment:

  1. James Corden is one of those people who virtually everyone raves about, and I've always wondered why - I just don't get it (others that spring to mind are Miranda Hart, Michael McIntyre and John Bishop). But I agree - watching the Brits is a tradition. For me, two highlights this year: firstly, when Bowie won best British male and Noel Gallagher said "you didn't think he'd actually be here, did you?", and secondly, a comment under The Guardian's report, which was "Pharrell Williams - WTPh?". Wish I'd thought of that!

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