I'm going to do a very haphazard and possibly ending abruptly blog tonight. It's my 30th birthday tomorrow so tonight I must leave the house. But first I must drink. And complain about Eurovision. Last year it was so dire I could barely speak of it. I watched it in a hotel room in Yarmouth. Terry was much missed.
I remember this Norway song from last year (unfortunately).
Anyway, I'm going to keep this as brief as is humanly possible. We are going to have bets on who to win.
Azerbaijan. We just opened some champagne. Gloves. My best mate (BM) has just placed her bet on it. She's crazy. You can't throw away your vote so soon. OMG she's cheating, Graham said it was the bookies favourite! Drip drop. I still don't believe this will win. My boyfriend (BF) just compared it to Life is a Pigsty by our beloved Moz.
Spain. Something Tiny. Sung by Leo Sayer.
This voting system is flawed! You get to ring up for them straight away; no wonder the fucking first one is the bookies favourite.
Norway obviously don't want to win it two years in a row. Credit crunch. HE CAN'T SING. This is unbearable.
Moldova. Now we're talking. Ravers. Saxaphones. BF has picked it. We've got two picks each. I'm being left behind.
Cyprus. it's like the OC gone wrong. Make me immortal with a kiss.
Bosnia & Herzegovina. Derren Brown singing. Strings. Thunder & Lightning. This is my pick. God help me.
Belgium. Me and my guitar. Feelings this, feelings that. Grow up.
Serbia. He looks like an air hostess. He doesn't look how he sounds, it's all wrong.
Belarus. The song is called Butterflies. Don't get your hopes up. It's like Westlife rolled into one and dumped in a river. Wow, they just sprouted wings. Fly away, Peter. Fly away, Paul.
Ireland. What turgid pan-pipes bullshit will they foist on us this time. It's Florence's mum.
Greece. This is like Arabian nights. They lyrics are really deep.
United Kingdom. That sounds good to me. Even Moz would balk at that title. If this was a true indication of the UK music scene I'd volunteer to have my ears removed. DO NOT CALL FOR THE UK. I'll have a job without the number.
Georgia. God, the lyrics tonight have been really dire. I don't know where Georgia is, and I don't want to. Red dress, growling.
Turkey. BM has claimed this one. It's like Linkin Park gone right.
Albania. I've picked this one. It's another Euro dance hit. It's all about you. But not by McFly.
Iceland. It's the woman from Ireland singing again. I am actually getting furious now. I've had enough.
Ukraine. Like nails down a blackboard. More bullshit about feelings.
France. Bum wiggling. Ole ole ole. I'm about ready to stab someone right now. BF has picked France.
Romania. Piano, piano, piano. I kinda like this, though. They have allowed me to change my vote; I'm picking this now.
Russia. He's singing to a photo of a woman. It's very moving.
Armenia. Apricot stone... I will drop it in the ground. Oh God.
Germany. Something borrowed, something blue. She's like a drunk aunt dancing at a wedding.
Portugal. I want to go out now.
Israel. I feel like we've seen this one before. 'Tears of blood are burning in my throat'. Delightful.
Denmark. Every Breath You Take. Re-imagined.
Why do Spain get to sing twice? This is unfair.
And now for the voting. I'm putting my make-up on. Turkey are 2nd! This means my BM could win £15. Boo. Come on Germany. Ha, they won.
And the point of all that was... nothing. That's the end of my 20s. I'm going out. Thank you, goodnight. :)