Entry No.1

I took little or no coercion into making the decision to write my own blog. As a matter of fact, I took no coercion at all. I read other peoples and came to the conclusion that I might be good at it. However, because I came to that conclusion myself, I can't say the results will be or won't be spectacular.

Sohere's a brief rundown about myself:

Name: Jonathan

Age: 22

Hometown: Neath

Blood Type: No idea. Never given blood.

Occupation: Journalist

Hobbies: Rugby, radio presenting and all the usual other stuff like watching films, listening to music etc.

Favourite Aftershave: Burberry for men

Favourite Beverage: Staropramen

Bad Habits: Staying up far too late/early playing Football Manager. Also I'm not the tidiest person.

Things you do when your drunk that you shouldn't: Call EVERYONE and sing loudly to them. Or whinge about stuff that doesn't bother me when I'm not drunk.

I'm bored of that now, I wanna get on with writing my first ever blog.

Woke up about two o'clock today with an achey knee and 3 texts. My parents had a new mattress delivered and 'The Bee' works for the bed company. He text me to whinge about carrying the bed up the stairs, I told him I'd buy him a pint and to stop being such a girl.

Watched that Popstar to Operastar on ITV on Saturday. I rarely watch Saturday night TV anymore, which is sad because I used to love it. Gladiators, The Generation Game, Big Break and the monster that was Noels House Party have made way for The X Factor and other denominations of horrid reality TV rubbish.

But if the formula for the success of a reality TV show has been discovered by a Mr S. Cowell of London, then nobody told the makers of P2O who drafted in a diverse panel of judges.

You had Katherine and Rolando who make sense because they're operatic singers and they've trained these so called 'celebrities' (like the woman out of Shakespeares Sister or Bernie Nolan) and understand how they need to sound, though the whole mentor/judge relationship is bound to go wrong somewhere down the line.

Lawrence Llewelyn Bowen is a presenter on Classic Fm and if he was brought in as the Cowell/Morgan of the piece then they clearly haven't told him. He hasn't brought out the knives on anyone, instead giving vague praise coupled with a mild sarcastic remark...

And finally Meatloaf. Oh Meatloaf. You're just plain bonkers aren't you? With no insight on operatic singing other than a one time duet with Pavarotti and a voice that could drown out a small aircraft; (a dubious talent only attained as far as I'm aware by the legend that is Brian Blessed) he proceeded to heap unintelligible praise at each singer, making a point to stand as he did so and in the process nearly beheading Katherine Jenkins.

I really wanted Alex James to win. I really rooted for him! If you haven't had the pleasure, his performance can be seen here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KpekDcOEiNE

I love how Myleene Klass introduces him with 'Who else but Alex James?' Well Myleene, I'd have said Damon Albarn, who was the SINGER in Blur, and not the bassist who quite blatantly can't carry a note but performs with such humour and novelty value that I'm pretty sure Louis Walsh wants him to open for Jedward.

Bloody hell I've written a lot!

Saturday night TV brings me onto Take Me Out, where a savage horde of desperate females get put off by a smarmy tosser. Paddy McGuinness tries hard, bless him, to channel the spirit of Cilla Black. (I know she's not dead!) He's even come up with his own catchy catchphrase "Remember girls; No likey, no lightey" I think that may have been when I started feeling queasy.

Long story short, the man is paraded in front of these 30 women, he performs a 'talent' which has involved juggling, playing the drums, fire breathing and there was the guy who thought he WAS Lemar or Mario or whatever he was singing.

Then some perfunctory embarrassing story crawls out of the woodwork. Usually a sister, mother or friend to dish the dirt on this character. If by this point, the woman aren't reviled enough to switch their light off, then the man gets his opportunity to whittle down his options to two.

This cruel cull usually sees the fat girl from Sheffield go first, then anyone too tall or not aesthetically pleasing enough for the gentleman, (it has turned into a brothel by this point) and then he asks the two remaining harridans a leading question and then chooses which one to date.

I find the whole show sickening, chauvinistic, shallow and utterly compelling.

All this from a man who apparently loathes Saturday Night TV??

Anyway, will post again soon when I come up with more stuff to talk about, I'm knackered now!