Dancing Fib Sunday

I voke ap zis mornink, dia reedah, viz a slaitlih zore het. Oh, I don't have to keep up my vile impression of a Serbian lesbian anymore.

To celebrate Eurovision, Phyllis and I drank the champagne we were going to take to Alan's house on Friday, until he forgot he'd invited us to his homecoming party, that is! He should have been blonde!

It may be this, it may be that, but Eurovision is still wildly entertainling, even with the block/political voting and the rubbish we send year in, year out. Images of last night, will, I'm sure, haunt me for all eternity.

I'm quite disappointed. Verka Serduchka's Dancing lasha tumbai was pipped to the post by Marija Serifovic. Still, Phyllis was pleased; it was his favourite. The UK came second from last with nineteen points. For a while, it looked like Scooch were coming home with nul points again. Oddly, Malta awarded us a maximum of twelve! Was the entire Maltese population stoned last night? I've done my fair share of moaning about Scooch over the past few weeks, but the song has grown on me and we were remarkably better than some of the other trash featured last night in the East European Song Contest.

Some major fixes have to be implemented before Eurovision 2008, my love. The voting system has to be seriously amended and we have to stop sending has beens and wannabes. I'd suggest a regional contest, perhaps splitting the EBU countries into six regions (western, mediterranean, central, Scandanavia, eastern and non-European) with each region sending their top scoring three or four acts. I think it sounds like a good idea.

Phyllis and I both downloaded the score card from the BBC website last night. Using the traditional Eurovision scoring system, my results were:

Ukraine 12
Slovenia 10
Turkey 8
Georgia 7
Hungary 6
Serbia 5
Bulgaria 4
Finland 3
Germany 2
Romania 1

One might see my scores and claim any arguments concerning political/block voting are blown out of the water as many of my favourites are from Eastern Europe. No. Because most of my favourite acts were eliminated in the semi-final on Thursday which resulted in ten entrants from the former Soviet block et al. Losing Denmark was a travesty.

Before moving on to matters at hand, just a few words about each entry from last night:

Bosnia & Herzegovina - Dull.
Spain - Remember No Mercy?
Belarus - Vulgar accent and not Donna Summer.
Ireland - The poor woman couldn't sing for toffee.
Finland - Nice basque!
FYR Macedonia - Ridiculous.
Slovenia - Opera and lights!
Hungary - A tribute to Billie Ray Martin.
Lithuania - Shadow theatre.
Greece - A Ricky Martin rip-off.
Georgia - Björkish.
Sweden - Love grows where my Rosemary goes.
France - Ça plane pour moi.
Latvia - Il Divo.
Russia - A Slavic Girls Aloud.
Germany - Harry Connick Jnr on cabbage.
Serbia - Poison dwarf. Funky little dyke. Melanie Skubich. One half of Abbott and Costello.
Ukraine - Timmy Mallett on acid.
UK - Camp with delicious double entendres. Love Russ' big cock/package.
Romania - Fabulously ethnic.
Bulgaria - Would win if she could sing.
Turkey - Mr Claypole!
Armenia - Dull shit.
Moldova - Clothes from Empire Stores.

What a shame, my love. And to think, if we'd sent Cyndi, we'd have won.

Oh, and I think I saw Thomas on the telly last night. Sat in the same row as the ridiculous bint in pink were two outrageous gays waving Australian flags. Could they have been Thomas and the gay divorcee?

And so, to the real reason for a blog entry on a Sunday: Fib Sunday! Hurrah!

If you don't know what Fib Sunday is, hen, or indeed, what's going on, click here for the original instructions. Hei!

In brief:

1) I take the topic as given in last week's final entry, write a Fib and give a new topic.
2) Your reply to the topic is in the form of a Fib in the comment section.
3) You then supply the next topic.
4) The next visitor replies with a Fib on the newly given topic and then provides a new topic and so on...

A Fib is a six line, twenty syllable poem with a syllable count by line of 1/1/2/3/5/8. The only restriction on a Fib is that the syllable count follow the Fibonacci sequence. An example of a classic fib:

One
Small,
Precise,
Poetic,
Spiraling mixture:
Math plus poetry yields the Fib.

Last week, Brian left us with the topic of Worshipping Ganesha whilst eating earwax-filled chocolate cupcakes and allowing Mama Cass to give you a full frontal massage using flaming maracas, a punctured inner tube, and a moon rock that was given to her by Neil Armstrong when they had that fling at the chateau in Zurich the summer of '70. No, really.

My response:

Hi
Cass!
Rub here.
Hindu chants...
Make me hungry for:
Spain, cycling, Switzerland and space.

Next topic:

Lasha tumbai.

Euroku

Enjoy fondling responsibly.

Good evening mes amis! Oh, Danny Boy, Ich bin der Teufel!

Eins, zwei, drei... Tanzen!

Saturday, Saturday, everyone loves Saturday! And a Saturday like today could hardly get any better. There's Haiku Saturday to play, the study to tidy and a good night on the telly! Yes, so, ok, Doctor Who has been postponed for seven days, but only to make way for the Eurovision Song Contest! So there will be no slashing of wrists tonight! Only high campery, indeed!

But who will win?

It's probably anyone's guess. Up until this morning, I was inclined to lean in Latvia's direction, but I woke up with silver lamé and glitterballs on my mind. And this can mean only one thing. Verka Serduchka is going to take the prize with this: Dancing Lasha Tumbai! The UK, sadly, will come last with next to no points for Scooch's effort is absolute rubbish. It's a shame, really. It might have won if this was 1995. And one of thier number is a twenty seven year old who looks like he's in his early forties. I'd advise him to lose weight, but that's the pot calling the kettle black, so I won't. Still, it's not all bad. He's got a massive cock and comes from Bournemouth. Curiously, everyone born in Bournemouth has got a whopping dick.

Investments can go down as well as up.

Jesus!

With you, I'll never be lonely again, mon amour! The voice of my soul has come home!

I've been searching for the face of Jesus, dear reader. And how, how long... You might have seen a photograph or two from my recent trip to the highlands of Scotland featuring my wee pal, the Buddha. Since January, I've been looking for a Jesus to also be our friend. I want to take him to Japan with me in a few weeks as I took the Buddha on holiday a wee while ago. But despair set in. I've been the length and breadth of Scotland. Not one Jesus could I find. Christ!

But I fret no more. Today, blessed am I among women. The Lord is with me. And all thanks to Krafty Bitch. The dear little dimpled darling sent me a Jesus action figure! With poseable arms and gliding action.

Stress and anxiety are unknown to me. Peace and joy are mine! I will never be afraid again. I feel love.

Oh, and as if the Jesus figure wasn't enough, Krafty Bitch was also kind enough to give me one of his family cookbooks! It's choc-full of delicious inspiration, including veggie burger potato loaf, peanut butter cookies, pumpkin pie and Japanese fruit cake! How thoroughly fabulous!

Could the day get any better? Almost! Tonight, my little maid, we're treated to the 2007 Eurovision Song Contest semi final on BBC3! With Ian's friend, the delicious homosexual, Paddy O'Connell!

I'm not sure if I'm going to love it or hate it this year, doll. The German song is the favourite with some dire swing thing. No originality. Still, there's plenty of that in the guise of this years common theme: campery! Drag queens seem to be omnipresent. I hope one of them wins. We certainly shan't. Our effort is complete rubbish. The song is as interesting as dog shit and the two men are about as tasty. The two women are as camp as knickers, but, Lord above us, that's just not enough. Offering people something to suck on or asking men if they have salty nuts does not a Eurovision winner make. Oh, how I long for the days of the dear Jessica Garlick, Sonia, Bucks Fizz, Imaani, Belle and the Devotions and Bardo!

Favourites from the past include:

One Step Further - Bardo
Love Games - Belle and the Devotions
Come Back - Jessica Garlick
Every Way That I Can - Sertab
Better The Devil You Know - Sonia
Making Your Mind Up - Bucks Fizz
and a Song For Europe entry
I'll Never Be Lonely Again - Sapphire

I might get drunk and eat a load of chocolate!

But of course, karma strikes again. To balance out all this fabulousness, there is some shit. Yes, Mr Blair has announced his resignation today. He's been a bit naughty at times, yes, but I honestly believe he's the best Prime Minister of modern times and better than any other figure in the Labour Party. Most certainly better than any bloody Tory.

The world will miss sweet Tony. You might not think so now, hen, but wait until 27th June when, God willing, Gordon Brown takes over. Dull, dull, dull. History has a vile habit of repeating itself and he will play John Major to Tony Blair's Margaret Thatcher.

Haiku

Hey, lady. It's Haiku Saturday. Click here. Go on.

And it's also Mum's last full day in Edinburgh. A short visit. Short and sweet.

No-one seems to say short and sweet anymore. Nor my giddy aunt. Such a shame.

Shame #2 of the day: Scooch being chosen to represent us in the Eurovision Song Contest with some drivel about flying a flag. Click here to watch it. I just know we're going to come last with this tripe. With lines like "Salty nuts?" and "Would you like something to suck on, Sir?" the only people who are going to vote for us are the gays. Oh, hang on, the only people who watch the Eurovision Song Contest are the gays! Gosh! So we're going to win, then...!