7.42pm: Incidentally, since this is Guilty Pleasures night, I've decided to retitle it The Night Of A Million Wagners. Just so we're on all the same page.

It's X Factor's Guilty Pleasures night! This means that each act will get to perform a song that's so bad it's good. This is a radical departure for X Factor, because most weeks it just makes each contestant perform a song that's so bad it genuinely can't be enjoyed on any discernible level whatsoever.

Still, it's good to see that Simon Cowell finally understands irony, and only a few short years after his hairdresser, tailor and dentist all discovered it, too. Well done Simon.

Upsettingly, we'll be have to struggle through tonight's X Factor without the two guiltiest pleasures of all - Diva Fever and Storm Lee. They came, they saw, they made a bad noise that sounded like a fox being kicked down a well, and they were soundly rejected by the majority of the British public. They will be missed. Oh, who am I kidding? No they won't.

While we wait for things to begin, what are we all most looking forward to? Wagner's much-hyped bongo extravaganza? The continuing interpersonal disintegration of Belle Amie? Louis Walsh bouncing up and down like a giddy gonk, delighted that all his favourite songs are being performed in a row? Let's find out at 7:45, shall we?

7.45pm: Here's the recap. I can't remember what happened last week but, if this is any indication, there were an awful lot of explosions. Did I miss something? What blew up? Is everyone OK? Has the studio maintained its structural integrity? I must know.

7.50pm: Straight into the songs without having time to observe that, as usual, Simon Cowell's shirt is unbuttoned to his navel. I've just eaten. When will I learn?

But Paije is singing first. So that's him gone tomorrow, then.

7.51pm: Paije is singing a weird, morbid, piano-y version of Ain't Nobody. Not that it matters what Paije sings, of course. I just want to know what happened to his fetish for dressing like something from the 1980s. And I had money on him coming on tonight dressed as a giant Swatch watch, too. Thanks for nothing, Paije. Sheesh.

7.54pm: So it appears that the definition of a guilty pleasure is a good song slowed down and made tedious. I have a terrifying feeling that Wagner's song is going to sound like Sigur Ros, you know.

Anyway, the judges seem to like Paije's performance. But that's just polite for "You're out tomorrow, so I won't even bother to remember what your face looks like" isn't it?

8.02pm: 8.02pm: John's on second. Louis has thrown him to the lions. Admittedly the lions will probably fall asleep the second he opens his mouth, but still.

Forget anything else that's happened so far. THERE IS NO RAPPING FARMER YOGHURT ADVERT. This is a disgrace. I shall be writing a letter to my MP. But, oh, it looks like Virgin Media have signed up the most uncomfortably racist Warner Bros character to advertise its new broadband service. That's something.

8.04pm: In a way, John's total screaming lack of charisma is impressive. You could make him sing Ace Of Spades and he'd somehow manage to pound it into a dreary, monotonous, slate-grey Lighthouse Family sludge. But instead he's singing Zoom by Fat Larry's Band, a bland piece of gloop that he's somehow made even more pointlessly humdrum than usual.

This is like listening to an inept lift muzak band cover a piece of call waiting music. It's horrible. It's like being trapped in a horrible kaleidoscopic Magic FM feedback loop. End, please.

8.08pm: Criticism for John has mainly centred on the dancers behind him. This may be because everyone forgot that John was even there. I certainly did.

8.13pm: Rebecca's up next, with Why Don't You Do Right. She's even given herself a Jessica Rabbit haircut as well, which labours the point more than she needed to. This is a typical Rebecca performance - it's vocally very good, but she'll throw all her goodwill away by mumbling monotonously afterwards. She's Leona Lewis times a billion.

8.14pm: Incidentally, is this the most tedious opening to any episode of X Factor yet? Three syrupy ballads in a row. I'd hack both of my shins off to have Diva Fever come on and whoop in their pants at the moment.

8.22pm: Here we go. It's Cher Lloyd. She'll inject some life into this. To be fair, she'll inject some of Cheryl Cole's life into this, as part of her ongoing Single White Female tactic of winning X Factor, but it's a relief nonetheless.

8.23pm: Ah. It would seem that Cher is singing the unofficial England anthem from this year's World Cup. So, just for anyone keeping count, the mark of a streetwise and credible young world-domineering popstar is their ability to mimic James Corden. Well done, Cher, you've played a blinder. Now come on next week, develop a gratingly insincere laugh, only tell jokes about how fat you are and you'll have the whole bloody thing in the bag.

8.27pm: Cher always sings two songs at once, doesn't she? Let's have your predictions for next week - my guess is that she'll mix My Heart Will Go On with Straight Outta Compton. It'll be... well, it'll be no worse than this.

8.32pm: My 'Night Of A Million Wagners' line was wishful thinking, wasn't it? So far this is turning out to be the Night Of A Million John Adeleyes. Think of something worse than that, I dare you. You can't, can you?

8.33pm: Now: Internet Dreamboy Matt Cardle. He blew everyone away last week, and his performance catapulted the original version of Just The Way You Are straight back into the top five. His bruised emotional vulnerability is undoubtedly his selling point, so what's he going to turn it to this week?

8.36pm: Oh god, WHY? This isn't just Hit Me Baby One More Time - it's Hit Me Baby One More Time... ON AN ACOUSTIC GUITAR, which instantly makes it just as dreary as anything we've seen so far. He hasn't even had the decency to change the words to "Hat me baby one more time", the bastard.

But, hey, it's working. He's singing that he wants to be hit and, to be fair, I do actually want to punch him in the face at the moment. Full marks, Internet Dreamboy Matt Cardle. Full marks indeed.

8.38pm: Is it too late to turn the theme of this week's episode to Heavy Sedation night? Anyone? Oh, you've all fallen asleep. Gosh, I envy you.

8.41pm: Now it's time for One Direction, the group who Simon Cowell last week called 'the most exciting in Britain', presumably right after calling sawdust 'an explosive taste sensation' and gravel 'cutting edge technology at its most mindblowingly spectacular'.

8.44pm: One Direction's guilty pleasure is Nobody Knows by Pink. And don't worry, the original was just as leaden and bland as this - they're not slowing it down to make it look credible. Because, come on, who'd be stupid enough to do that?

But this is definitely a guilty pleasure. Remember when Pink recorded this song about how she struggled to cope with depression following the messy break-up of her marriage? Ha ha ha, that was hilarious! Such a guilty pleasure! It's basically Shaddap Your Face! That Pink, eh? What a ruddy card she is!

8.48pm: Cheryl may have just compared One Direction to The Beatles. This might be because girls love them, or because they've all got moppy hair, or because one of them is totally going to get Pete Bested the instant that X Factor is over. Who knows what goes on in her mind sometimes, honestly?

8.54pm: Now it's the turn of Treyc or, as I've involuntarily started calling her, Traik. Apparently she went to Top Shop this week. I think X Factor should try to mention this a bit more tonight, actually.

8.58pm: Traik's singing Whole Lotta Love, which seems like a bizarre choice of song. Not because it isn't a guilty pleasure - it is - but because it's nearly six minutes long. This being X Factor, Traik will probably only be allowed to sing about 90 seconds of it. She won't even get to the part where I start to lose the will to live. That's the point of Whole Lotta Love, isn't it? To make me lose the will to live?

But you know what? The change of pace is most welcome, and Traik's giving this all she's got. My favourite performance of the night so, on the basis of my predictions so far, that's her done for.

9.01pm: And now, while Traik returns her outfit to the crow-hire shop that she got it from, it's the turn of Tesco Mary. She apparently went to Top Shop this week. Who knew?

9.02pm: Tonight Mary has chosen to bellow I Who Have Nothing. Nothing but a voice that sounds like a buffalo slowly being backed into a wood chipper, that is. As usual, it's big and powerful and the audience appears to be going crazy for it. But we're three weeks in now, which means it must be time for Simon Cowell to start being more overt in his 'You're simply not a viable recording artist' takedown. How's he going to do it? My guess - that he'll drop a nonchalant "I think you're in trouble tonight" and watch as self-doubt slowly starts to gnaw her to pieces.

9.05pm: While the judges critique Mary, just take a minute to imagine her shouting "I LOVE YOU!" right into your face from three inches away. Terrifying, isn't it? I wish I hadn't done that now.

9.07pm: So it looks like Simon Cowell's tactic is to force Mary into being more modern. That way, when she gets shot down for murdering Bad Romance next week, he can stand to the side and cackle. Maybe there'll even be flames reflected in his eyes as he does it. It'd suit him.

9.12pm: And now for Aiden Grimshaw, who had a rough old time of it last week, turning Jealous Guy by John Lennon into a song called Je-heh-eh-HEH-lo-ouss-woo-WOO-huh-sus Guh-HIY by some old homeless bloke who used to live outside BHS. Aiden went to Top Shop this week. I didn't see that coming.

9.15pm: Tonight, though, Aiden's singing Diamonds Are Forever with all the steely intensity of Patrick Bateman playing a particularly difficult game of Operation. And, crikey, does he mean it. Yes, alright Aiden, diamonds ARE forever. Just please don't hurt my family. I'll do anything you say.

9.18pm: Cheryl Cole has just criticised Aiden's emotional intensity. Meanwhile, don't forget to stay tuned to ITV1 after X Factor, where Cheryl Cole will cry her eyes out at Piers Morgan for a solid hour.

9.25pm: Belle Amie also got to go to Top Shop this week. And that's got nothing to do with the business that Simon Cowell runs with Philip Green, by the way. Nothing at all.

9.27pm: Belle Amie are singing I'll Stand By You, a guilty pleasure that Cheryl Cole once covered when she was in Girls Aloud, the ironic idiot.

But, really, it doesn't matter what Belle Amie sings. Nobody's listening to the song. They're all too busy trying to work out how much the girls hate each other after last week's palaver. They're a pressure cooker of tension at the moment. Hey, maybe they'll fall out on stage. Maybe Rebecca will step on one of Sophia's lines and Sophia will retaliate by choking Rebecca to death with a garrote fashioned from a pair of Miss Selfridge jeggings. That'd be fun, wouldn't it? More fun than this, anyway.

9.30pm: Louis is trying to put the cat amongst the pigeons by laying into Belle Amie now. And by 'cat' I mean 'pre-rehearsed line', and by 'pigeons' I mean 'heavily packaged reality television format'. Obviously.

9.31pm: Here we go. WAGNER!

9.32pm: I really, really hope that Wagner doesn't mess this up. It feels like the mania surrounding him is beginning to peak, so he's going to have to bongo like he's never bongoed before if he wants to survive. I pray that he does, because I've just thought of something else that he looks like - a Bratz doll that's been wrapped in bacon and cooked.

9.37pm: This is better. This is the old Wagner. Imagine if Dog The Bounty Hunter had been dropped into the middle of a carnival and made to sing two songs that he's never heard before. And he's drunk. And he's dressed a bit like an off-duty Olympic fencer. That's EXACTLY what this is like. And, disgusting lack of bongos aside, he didn't do badly.

Plus he got flashed by 12 dancers at the end. It wasn't choreographed, that's just what happens if Wagner lures you in with his magnetic gaze

9.37pm: It's weird that Wagner's been made to sing another Ricky Martin song, though, isn't it? I mean, this situation can't possibly end well. He's done She Bangs, he's done Livin' La Vida Loca - what's left? Shake Your Bon-Bon? Nobody Wants To Be Lonely? The official anthem of the 1998 World Cup? Bail now, Wagner, because you're about to enter a world of crap.

9.42pm: I notice the bongos/congos/congas discussion in the comments. The word doesn't matter. All that matters is that there were none of them this week, and I am in tears as a result. Happy now, Louis Walsh?

9.44pm: Katie, last seen on the results show screeching "I DID IT!" with all the cold-eyed vindication of a young woman who's just pushed her elderly wheelchair-bound millionaire husband off a cliff seconds after getting him to change his will, is apparently upset at her song choice this week. How is she planning to close the show?

9.46pm: Oh, no wonder she's upset. It's I Wanna Be Like You by That Monkey Out Of The Jungle Book. Never Mind that singing this on TV was Craig David's last act before hightailing it out of the UK forever, the sentiment is all wrong. She wants to be like us? But we all think she's a bellend. That's just not going to work.

Katie looks like she wants to die, but I feel like I want to die. So I win.

9.49pm: There are no words for what I've just witnessed. At one point my eyeballs turned into black pebbles and fell out of my eyes. There's blood gushing uncontrollably out of my mouth. I've visibly aged since that song began. I can smell almonds. Someone help me.

Simon Cowell just called Katie a genius. Somewhere, far far away, a unicorn just died.

9.51pm: And that's it for another, genuinely bewildering, night. Be sure to come back here tomorrow at 8pm for the results show, when Cheryl Cole will sing parts of her new song and then someone will be eliminated if there's any time left over. Don't forget to keep in touch with me on Twitter (@stuheritage, remember?) in the meantime and, as ever, thanks for your torrential onslaught of hilarious comments, all 920 (!) of them. Your dedication is commendable, and not at all unsettling. Until tomorrow!