Well we had great seats. Right behind the judges. On screen we'd have been just to the left of Piers Morgan, thankfully out of camera shot. There's nothing worse then being the lumpen daftie unaware of the amount of screen time they have. Just track down Eightiesmania and look for the man in the Frankie Says... T-shirt if you need proof.
So it was the night that poor little Hollie lost it. I could see it coming. The words were escaping her, she was losing her timing. Then the floodgates opened. That was exciting because I've never seen anyone lose their composure in all the live talent shows I've ever seen. It's like going to a wedding where one of them doesn't turn up or someone actually does have a good reason why this man cannot be joined to this woman. I've always wanted that to happen. Come on, someone! By the bypass, I reckon Hollie's a bit of a brat. Look what happened when she didn't get her own way.
Anyway, good for Simon Cowell, for it was he who went off and sorted it all out so she could be indulged again. I reckoned he paid for the lost ad revenue out of his own pocket. The only way they could fit her in again was to cut short the ads - something usually unheard of as it costs so much. So if he did, what a nice man. But those Cuban heels have GOT to go. He's short with a big head. Piers Morgan looked far more suave than on the telly.
Talking of big heads, Amanda Holden strutted around like some sort of princess, preening and purring and waving at the crowd constantly. It's not that she's got the common touch at all. She lost that ages ago. No, she's a bit of an I am.
Someone asked me earlier who the acts were, and apart from Hollie, family singing sensation Good Evans and the winning breakdancing boy (who was very good), and I couldn't remember. Still, we had a super time, and were cracking open the wine by 11.30 while we whizzed through the show hoping we didn't appear on screen. And we didn't.
So Diversity won it and Susan Boyle's in a mental home. All over for another year.
