Oops La La

As you might anticipate from my earlier post, this week I have been assiduously following the semi-finals of Britain's Got Talent and Good Friend is a very willing convert. As well as alternately marvelling and cringing at the mind boggling variety of acts, another, unexpected reaction has enhanced our nightly viewing - we have both, despite his startlingly chemically enhanced teeth, fallen in love with the re-constructed Simon Cowell! No longer the unfeeling, robotic, high-waisted, life-sized Barbie consort, he has morphed into a charming, sexy (especially when collar and tie batten down the chest hair) sympathetic man who is kind to children and animals and, most importantly, respectful of Amanda Holden's right to an opinion. It now falls to Piers Morgan to fulfil the role of condescending ageist misogynist who can also add spectacularly ill-informed to his CV - Bleeding Heart, my a***.

And so to the finalists... GF and I liked Signature, the dancing Sikhs and also clever collie, Gin, plus the shy chorister Andrew Johnston but not kiddie ballroom duo, The Cheeky Monkeys (Simon's soft side was positively flaccid where they were concerned). We adore inspired dancer George Sampson (to the point of actually picking up the phone and voting for him) and who would not admire the poise and talent of 12 year old Faryll Smith? We do not rate string ensemble Escala, however, who may be brilliant and gorgeous but are not innovative and would not attract nearly so much admiration if their collective and amply displayed pins were not quite so lissom. Martial arts duo, Strike, are far from a knockout in our book and what happened to the fabulous Hoop La La? I'm quite sure Prince Charles would have enjoyed them. But who cares? Our boy has won - for his Mum - and there wasn't a dry eye in the living room, the newly returned Brian having, predictably, beat a retreat to an early bed.

Many congrats to Blackpool's Jodie Pregner, victor in the Battle of the Nancies. The Lord and his side-kick, Cameron McIntosh, made it quite clear they didn't want her with the ennobled gargoyle even stooping so low as to make a sizeist remark (hey, what about a remake of that other Victor Hugo Classic, The Hunchback of Notre Dame?). They didn't like being over-ruled by "the people", seemingly forgetting that it was the plebs who made them their multi-millions in the first place.