"Anyone can find a yobbish little crim with attitude and a tag on his leg," X-Factor fan Dan Sinstructer told Stinky Ponky earlier today. "I could close my eyes and take a spinning piss in Gregg's which would wet the legs of at least three knife wielding Burberry fuck-tards. This shows a complete lack of imagination on the behalf of Cowell and his team of singing-freak finders. It's a huge disappointment.

 

"And I don't want some shitty little Cheryl Cole-alike with a history of lap-dancing and no talent; we've already got Cole herself if we want shite like that! I want some raving boz-eyed hermaphrodite who will come on dressed in a fluorescent pink bra and a sporran before slobbering on the microphone while singing Robbie William's Angels badly and attempting to lick Dermot O'Leary's eyeballs.

 

"That's entertainment.

 

"Give me contestants with dead parents who we can all feel sorry for. Give me the ones who are recovering from something terrible, or the ones who can't walk. Don't give me some Geordie tart with the singing talent of a packet of salted peanuts. The only time I want to see her again is when I ask for a packet of 'Big D' in the pub and a bit more of her left tit is revealed. And don't give me the type of teenage criminal that I can find attempting to shoplift White Lightning from Morrissons.

 

"If I'm looking for sixteen year old knife crime I'll hang around outside my son's school at lunch time. But please, Mr Cowell, in the name of God's holy gonads, give us a genetic reject on a Saturday evening. Give us unhinged, give us inbred, give us unpredictably scary.

 

"Give us Susan Boyle."