About 20 million people in Britain watch X Factor and Strictly Come Dancing each Saturday night. The shows have pulled Saturday night television out of the doldrums once populated by weak game shows and tired formats into that exclusive category of shows you just can't miss.

The glitz and glamour of the sequin-clad celebrities, who try to rid themselves of two left feet in order to glide across a dancefloor before the judges, millions of viewers and 80-year-old Bruce Forsyth, is just irresistible.

Perhaps more of a draw is the off-stage bitchiness that leaks its way into the papers and through the gritted teeth of the ever-smiling contestants.

Jessie Wallace thinks the other girls are getting better costumes this year, while Cherie Lunghi is rumoured to have once been trained as a dancer, giving her unfair advantage.

Every year, a couple either gets it together or legend has it that they were romantically involved resulting in
other relationships hitting the wall and causing the fascination factor to soar.

Over on X Factor, the format is more familiar, but the appeal no less attractive. It was once the case that snobs watched Strictly, while X Factor was made for the rest of us, but I'm pretty convinced the theory is rubbish.

What place has the class divide in the battle between Dannii Minogue and Cheryl Cole for screen time and attention from Simon Cowell? And who could resist the charms of our own Louis Walsh as he dodges the delights of a slightly scary audition hopeful called Shirley who is just about managing to stay on the amusing side of stalking?

Reality TV has made staying in at the weekend great again.

And Antoher thing

Marketing monkey of the week award has to go to Michael Fingleton junior from Irish Nationwide who used the government's bank guarantee to tout for customers in London. He probably didn't realise when he pressed 'send' on the email which boasted the group's state-backed reliability that he was setting himself up as the whipping boy for Gordon Brown, the Irish government and his own bank. Ouch.