Into the Dark Side
Through circumstances entirely beyond my control, I found myself spending yesterday evening in a strange house doing some babysitting.
I didn’t mind too much. It was a simple case of locking the kids in their bedrooms and then turning up the television to drown out their shouts and cries.
Purely out of boredom I crossed to the Dark Side and watched bits of the Eurovision Song Contest. Apart from anything else, the screeches on-screen harmonised rather nicely with the screams from the bedrooms.
For those of you who are not familiar with this annual bunfight, the Eurovision is a contest where the aim is to either come second or last. There is a certain kudos in getting no votes at all and there is fuck all kudos in coming first, as then you have to fork out the equivalent of the Greek National Debt to host the contest next year. Voting is done on the basis of geography, so the Russians all vote for each other as do the Balkans, the Scandinavians and the Mediterranean lot. Ireland doesn’t have many friends so thankfully our chances of coming first are pretty slim.
Azerbaijan lost last year by coming first so they had to host the party this year. Heh!
The song contest used to be about songs and singing. That was in the Good Old Days. I’m not sure quite what it’s about now, as the “songs” bear fuck all resemblance to music. Each act seemed to consist of people prancing around and miming [very badly] to the cacophony that blared over the speakers.
Jedward did their stuff of course. I was delighted to see that they had gotten rid of that fucking hairstyle at last, but sadly that didn’t improve their act. They pranced and screeched around the stage dressed in some kind of metallic armour [I itched to try out a cattle prod on them] and ended their act by standing in the middle of a fountain. Don’t ask! All in all the quality of their act summed the whole contest up very nicely – tasteless and raucous.
It’s a testament to the programme that I can’t remember a single song. I do remember a rather tasty young lass reading out the scores – she can decorate my breakfast table any time.
An then there was the Russian entry.
I’m not quite sure what to make of it, but I did notice a strange tingling in the loins.
I must be getting old.
WTF was that ?
Aaaagh I watched it. Make it go away. Make it go away.
tt – That, dear boy was an entry in the Eurovision Song Contest. A fairly typical one, I might add.
Filthy – You have to admit thought that the little piece of totty at the end nearly made the experience bearable?
Oh God, I can never un-watch that!
What totty? I watched the fuckin’ thing again expecting totty at the end and there wasn’t any you bastard.
Brianf – It’s the ultimate definition of car-crash television. At the end of the programme you wonder if you actually saw such bad taste, or was it just a horrible nightmare!
tt – Hah!! At the end of the fucking programme, not the end of the video. Prat! The lass in the top photo. I couldn’t catch her without that damned microphone though [on my personal copy I did a wee touchup job – narrowed the microphone and coloured it pink. Much better!]
Of course the missus just HAD to watch it; I can still hear her now – “Yes luv, I know you can’t stand Jedward. I can’t fucking stand them either, but I just want to see how they get on….”
Later after the results I cried …………. tears of despair and frustration. Totally ruined the rest of my evening when I found out they got through http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WWaLxFIVX1s
I heard some brief mention of those two fucking idiots on BBC 1 and thankfully managed to avoid the whole sad affair.
You must really be getting old if you felt a “tingling in the loins” at those Russian wimmin.
Oh, and by the way, I hope you have no intention of doing a “Well Done Fillet” or a “Twenty Major” on us any time soon.
Still don’t know what the fuck Manuel was on about.
I have rekindled my faith in God again and pray every five seconds for The Russian Grannys to win so we don’t have that shite, and the insult of having to pay for it, here next year.
The Russian Granny Dolls…do they fit into each other?
wtf was that?!?!?
InisEanna – I thought for one horrific moment you had linked to a video of Jedward. That would have been too much!
Mossy – The Two Fucking Idiots were in their element over there as the place seemed to be full of them. One of the worst was a male presenter who sounded as if his one remaining brain cell needed to be humanely put down.
Slab -“The Russian Granny Dolls…do they fit into each other?” Once again, I hold you personally responsible for the ejection of a pint of tea out my nostrils and all over my keyboard.
Cat – Ask tt. He’s having the same problem!
Mossy – You ask if I ever think of doing a “Well Done Fillet” or a “Twenty Major”? The answer is yes. Every time I post some scribble, I say “that’s it. I quit”. The problem is that the following day something else always seems to crop up as a topic for my last ever posting.
I’m gonna miss Manuel though…..
The best part of the show was when Marty Whelan, who was comentating, said he needed to go to the toilet.
“I thought for one horrific moment you had linked to a video of Jedward” – Mwoahhh haaa haaa haaa haaa haaa haaaaaaaahhhh!!
Don’t worry, GD. I’m only a malevolant cunt towards folks I can’t stand; like two certain A.D.D. suffering twin lads from Lucan.
Slab – I missed that. Must have been in the toilet when he said it.
InisEanna – You really had me worried there for a moment or three.