All Fur Coat and No Knickers

Astronauts, my arse

Shit on a shovel. Conjugal Kraken has the American version of the X Factor on the telly at the mo and I'm bring forced to blog thanks to the vile sight of a kid called Astro (What? The? Fuck?) arsing about on the stage. The first word that came to mind when I saw him was wanker. Then wanker became the second, third and fourth words that I thought of. Oh, and then twat.
OK, perhaps it's an evil, troll-like thing to lay into a kid but, well, the tit is indeed tough. The fact that he's 12 is outweighed by the fact that he swaggers about under the guise of some self-proclaimed brand, calls his fans his Astronauts, bangs on about Team Astronaut and has thrown a fucking enormous wobbly on stage because he was in the bottom two (or whatever meaningless twist the US version of the show foists upon unwitting wannabes). 
What a grim little shit. He's got all of the swagger before he's even got the pubes. Watching him makes me want to punch myself in the head repeatedly until I've lost the use of my frontal lobes.
I mean, if the kid's like this now what the fuck is he going to be like when he's old enough to buy his own pants? He's already labelled his fan base which, in reality, probably consists of his mother, father, sister and an imaginary friend who is this close to telling him to go fuck himself. 
Look, when you're Kanye, you can act like Kanye. When you're Jay-Z you can act like you're fucking Beyonce. When you're a prepubescent arsehole with the talent of a bad karaoke act you're acting like a bell-end. Just stop it, OK? Now go brush your teeth and get into bed.