1.02 AN HOUR IN! I can do this, I can do this. AN HOUR TO GO?? No, I can’t do this.

Absolutely brilliantly, the judges have all gone to prepare, apart from Louis, who is sitting on his own looking like a happy puppy. Louise* just mimed playing the bongos, and rambled a bit about what he would have sung, given half the chance. Damn, imagine if Wagner was in this year, and Louis and Wagner did a duet of ‘King of the Bongo’? With Louis and Wagner both PLAYING the bongos and grinning at each other? Oh my god. Just the sheer thought has made me so overwhelmingly happy I know that I can keep going with this programme. I’m happier than Gary Barlow with a cup of tea. I am restored.

*This was a genuine typo, but I’m going to leave it in.

1.04 Marcus is saying how he’s ‘never met anyone as talented, sexy, and with such a penchant for velvet as Gary Barlow’. Mere weeks ago, I would have agreed. But it’s all gone so, so wrong for Gary and me. I think it’s probably because I keep watching Rory Kinnear have sex with animals. (I’m sorry about all the refs, but I’m still so disturbed by Black Mirror that humour is my only way of coping.)

Wow. Gary does sound…velvety smooth. And I love this song. ‘Always a woman’ by Billy Joel from the ‘Music John Lewis has ruined’ album. Marcus is kind of going for it a bit too much though, which ruins the sleek vocals of Gary, who I’ve suddenly started fancying again.

To give him his due, Gary is taking a back seat and really letting Marcus go for it. And giving Marcus the mildly saucy eyebrow. It’s all faintly homoerotic. But I’d rather just watch Gary do this. It was very sweet though, very retro. They even did a delightful little laugh afterwards.

Now Gary has spoilt it all by talking. Going on about how great Marcus is, when we know full well Gaz spent the first couple of months pawing over Frankie Cocozza and revelling in his filthy, filthy hair.

Sneaky fast forward.

1.10 Little Mix time! Don’t do Little Mix kids, it’s bad. For this particular look, the X Factor stylist robbed the Swarovski crystal store at gunpoint and took them for all they had. Singing wise, it’s….ok. I hope I’m getting across a point here, that the X Factor isn’t remotely about singing prowess. Oh NO! They’ve done that whole ‘REEEEE-MIX’ thing. Only Missy Elliot can do that. Her, and T.S. Eliot. If you don’t believe me, check out ‘J Alfred Prufrock: the Death Monkey remix’.

1.14 BLOODY HELL! Some complete idiot has got a Little Mix tattoo on their arm. A genuine tattoo! FOR LIFE. What an idiot. I mean, don’t get it on your ARM. My Johnny Robinson tattoo is on my bottom.

1.15 Uh oh, after the break it’s Amelia Lily and Kelly. I’ll be back soon, I’ve just got to remove all the glass from the room. This is going to get shrieky, isn’t it?

1.20 Apparently the competition is about to get ‘raging’, according to Dermot. Raging like my headache.

He’s now pimping out the atrocious bit of tomfoolery that is the ‘tap to clap app’. TAP TO CLAP. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. Thank god there’s finally some technology to make the labour intensive business of clapping much easier for me. Phew!

1.21 Kelly says she knew from the start Amelia ‘had something’. No STD jokes. No STD jokes. Aaaargh, this is killing me. They’re doing ‘River Deep, Mountain High’. Gawd bless America. I don’t hate this. Well, I do and I don’t.

Ten hours later, and they’re hitting a note that only insane chipmunks can hear. Also, Kelly is super duper out of breath after that. Yo! Kelly! Try doing 10 minutes of a Tracy Anderson workout if you think THAT’S tough!

1.24 Kids, I’ve got to leave you here. I’m deadly serious, I think my mental health will be compromised if I watch anymore of this freakshow. Yep, I’m picking up the remote to turn off, and – OH HOLY JEBUS. A woman has made an ‘Amelia Lily cocktail’. She names the ingredients as ‘cherry, pina colada, pineapple’ or something like that. PINA COLADA IS NOT AN INGREDIENT. Oh, hang on. I can’t turn off. I’m about to see Amelia Lily have sex with a pig, live on national TV. Right? That was the deal, wasn’t it? Charlie Brooker has broken me. Finally.

1.46 I’ve fast forwarded Leona Lewis, a million ad breaks, and Michael Buble. I went off Buble after seeing footage of him in concert, swearing all over the place and being generally inappropriate. I’m not even putting the accent on the ‘e’, just to annoy him. There was an ad with Kasabian, a group of utterly beautiful men who produce proper music. It brought me back to earth.

1.52 Nearly time for the moment when I get to see disappointment and fury etched on the face of Amelia Lily. Hooray! And a happy Christmas to one and all.

It’s a beautiful moment. Actually, Amelia handles it very, very well. She does a kind of head nod, smiles widely, hugs Marcus, and all without opening her eyes. That was actually very, very classy. Good for her.

So, we made it. WE MADE IT! Now excuse me, because I’ve got to go and have a shower, and erase my memory. Still, at least we’ll always have this not-quite-live blog.