Only a Handful of People Exist 8: Simon Cowell

Chronically thick and dull: Nervous Exhaustion or Botox Poisoning?

Modelling himself on the world’s most boring men: John Major, Norman Lamont and Mitt Romney, Simon ‘eye drooping disease’ Cowell, is an avid member of the Dull Men’s Club, and uses phrases learnt in such dreary climes in his everyday life much to the disgust of his peers and public alike.

Simon Phillip Cowell fell out of the guts of his ballet dancer and socialite mother Julie Brett, whilst she was passing through the scum of Lambeth, London. After realising that this measly little termite was in fact her spawn, she decided to bring him up in her usual rich residence of Elstree, with her music industry executive husband Eric Selig Phillip Cowell.

Funnily enough, the young Cowell, despite being exceedingly dull and thicker than a vat of industrial glue, managed to hoist himself up through the ranks of the music industry. The fact that his father was executive at EMI may have had a slight hand in his ridiculously misplaced fate.

In return for favours from Cowell’s daddy, music moguls such as Ellis Rich, Iain Burton and slimy slug Pete Waterman, took the useless cretin under their wings. Bumped from dull man to dull man, the boredom-inducing muzak sludge these grey men distributed severely affected Cowell. Mistaking the effects of brainwashing of the cretinous masses as being good for humanity, Cowell found a use for his dreariness: find the most dull people on earth and use daddy’s vast wealth to promote them through brainwashing techniques that Joseph Goebbels would baulk at.

It was this mixture of extreme dilettantism, stupidity, arrogance and dullness that enabled the abysmal human failure, Cowell, to plague the world with his ghoulish butchering of music. Despite having to move back in with his parents due to his disastrous inability to sell crap pop singles to the masses in the 1980s, he still managed to find a way onto TV with the boil-in-a-bag monstrosity Sale of the Century.

Cowell thrived in such a boring capitalist environment. His love of selling junk at bargain prices was rekindled and he moved from this deficient game show to signing up severely deficient and extremely talentless acts for his own music label (funded by daddy).  Curiosity Killed the Cat, Sonia, Five, Westlife, Robson & Jerome, and Ultimate Kaos were all signed up and sold to the dumbest of the dumb through the impressive brainwashing techniques Cowell learnt from his father.

Taking puerility to the extreme, bore Cowell decided to unleash his own recipe of what he considered to be cutting-edge talent: novelty recordings featuring the likes of Teletubbies, wrestlers of WWF, Zig and Zag and the Mighty Morphin Power Rangers, were showered on the masses like the fallout from an atomic explosion. Not only did such shite destroy the minds of millions, but it also pushed the increasingly dull Cowell higher in the media world’s pecking order.

Cowell then went into tacky overdrive by creating the world’s worst programmes, which made infant’s TV programmes seem impossibly intellectual. Pop Idol, X-Factor and the whole Got Talent ground bait shows were spawned from the exceedingly sick brain of Cowell and his acolytes.

Millions of dehumanised morons tuned in to watch fellow imbeciles parading their talentless wares on modern day freak shows. If Cowell had an understanding of history, he would realise that he has become a 21^st century RT Barnum but with a difference: Cowell’s freaks are 5 minute wonders who do not realise they are freaks and that they are being used. After the show is over they do not return. They are used up and spat out. Cowell then moves onto the next freak to parade and make his money.

Further mindless garbage from the supreme purveyor of crap are the shite TV shows American Inventor, Celebrity Duets, Grease is the Word, Rock Rivals, and Red and Black? Rumours abound that the ludicrous TV show ideas that Alan Partridge once put forward such as cooking in prison, monkey tennis and inner city sumo are in Cowell’s mind to be put into production. Apparently Cowell is trying to work his way around the copyright on these ideas so that he can pass these off as his own and add to the £200 million in his bank account.

Nowadays, Cowell can be spotted lurking around the corridors of the recording studios for his lame TV shows, seeking out new sex fodder to satiate his decaying libido. Stepford wives Danni Minogue and Cheryl Cole have been recent additions to his harem of boredom. It’s amazing how the rich and famous will do anything for a bit more money and fame, a weakness that turgid mental squalor Cowell exploits to his great advantage.

According to some sources, Cowell sleeps in a room filled with mirrors and photographs of himself, John Major, Norman Lamont, Mitt Romney and David Cameron, to remind him just what it is to be the botox bore of the universe.

Unfortunately for humanity, just like it takes generations for nuclear waste to no longer contaminate land, so it will be the same for the vile waste that Cowell has contaminated the world with. The world’s first one man cultural Chernobyl or media Fukushima is here to stay as he putrefies over the next thirty years. God save us all.

By Raygun