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Aside from the obvious link of Simon Cowell, these programmes are exactly the bloody same. Same format, same type of music, even the way the episodes are pieced together are exactly the same. This style of TV is really starting to grate on me.

Firstly, the recorded shows are utter tripe. You’ve got the opening with Ant and Dec on a bridge, and then after their introduction, the camera swoops round to reveal 20,000 crap wannabees sticking their hands in the air exclaiming “we’ve got Talent*/the X-Factor*” (* delete as appropriate).

At this point we have the introduction of the “Celebration times come on” music, which is the audible backdrop to some Britains Got Talent trucks driving down the motorway - and also it is mixed with some in car shots of the judges in the black limos talking bullshit about how they’re really excited about uncovering a star this time (what, just like last time when Leon won X-Factor and the last time I saw him was down McDonalds?).

So, we’ve done all the pre-contest hype, we’ve had all the hysteria, its now time for the first act - an 85 year old grand-dad who can balance a goat on his left testicle. The judges have a laugh and have a joke, but “it’s three no’s I’m afraid” - hilarity ensues.

This is then followed by a plethora of fast paced camera clips of another dozen contestants who failed to make it, including some argumentative chav who looks like she’s only got a total of five teeth in her mouth.

After this little period, the show then focuses on the judges who are in their green room sighing to each other that they are concerned that Cardiff hasn’t got any talent…

But wait, we then switch to a clip of a 12 year old angellic girl who’s Mum is single and is finding it hard to cope in life with no money and no hope (and obviously no condoms). Anyway, the girl sings her song, and she is incredible. She then shyly looks at the judges…. and patiently waits to hear the answers from the three judges. In the background you hear Chasing Cars from Snow Patrol build up…. and wait for it, on the third and defining “yes” from Simon Cowell, the volume of the track explodes and the girl runs off through the doors to her waiting Mum - blubbering like mad…

“If I lay here, if I just lay here, would you lie with me and just forget the world…”

Everyone is happy, the Mum is ecstatic, and then the programme decides to show a batch of other hopefuls who managed to get through to round 2 of 20 million - goodness their parents must be so proud. There are tears, there is jumping around, there is laughing and joking - oh this TV is bloody fantastic! Give me more of it! More! More! More!

Well, we will… but only after an advert break, which is superceded by Ant and Dec telling me what premium rate telephone number I can call in the hope of winning a Nokia N95 and tickets to the live final - superb! Oh, I’ve just learned that if I call after the lines have closed, my vote won’t be counted but I still might be charged. Blimey, I did not know that, it’s only the 13,000th time they’ve said it.

Man… all this formulaic crap makes me want to chunder it really does.

I know the format off by heart, I can predict the motions of every episode…. yet, the nation never gets bored of it! Even on the live shows “where anything can happen” - it’s always the same. In particular, the one dislike I have about these live prime time editions are the introductory segments to each live act, where the producers make it sound like the contestant is going to have to perform some kind of Jesus-style act in order to succeed… “He broke his neck and was paralysed from the waist down during rehearsals on Thursday, but will the Kelvin the Acrobat be able to pull it off in front of a live studio audience tonight???”

Spare me!