Saturday 26 May 2012

Your Own Vision

I’m not really pro or anti Eurovision. I definitely remember watching it every year growing up with Wogan (went for a shortened version of his name then but my go to of using the first three letter and adding a z to the end – yeah, it didn’t look good). And I would confidently say that I only really enjoyed the scores bit at the end..well I would say it confidently in a conversation with a small group. If I had to say it to 400 people, stood on a stage looking at all of their faces then I would probably say it with an audible wobble in my voice.

I couldn’t pinpoint the point at which I stopped watching it. It’s fair to say it was probably approximately the mid-nineties when I became to endanger my life expectancy by drinking to excess. I’m certainly not superior about not watching it. It is one of those things that was waiting for Twitter to make it much more enjoyable. I only watched Jedward and a couple more acts tonight and the scoring but I might as well have seen it based on the amount of tweets I read about it when checking Twitter for people moaning about how England were not winning the World Cup in their friendly international against Norway.

If I was going to represent someone at the ESC it woudln’t be the UK. (1) Daz Sampson’s Teenage Life set an unmatchable standard, both musically and at sexualising the image of the schoolgirl, and I don’t believe in being second best at anything; (2) I would like the lyrics to be translated and I can’t see them okaying the UK entry being in a foreign tongue.

Whatever tongue it was in it would include lines that would be something like these:

You don’t read reports but choose to accept an ideologically politicised tabloid newspaper’s précis of the report

Accept that my voicemail is not your emotional junkyard

You can’t draw cartoons of war and you cant drop bombs because of cartoons

Feel, feel, feel a euphemism for my phallus

In fact they are all definitely going in because they are fucking brilliant.

I am hilarious; this is all wasted, no one is reading fucking blogs when it is sunny. Apart from fucked up dickheads like me. I’m sat at home spoofing BBC news website stories about the Pope’s butler being arrested. It was brilliant my spoof:

I am definitely not bothered about no one reading the blog though, as I have mentioned in at least thirty previous entries. And certainly the increased traffic that comes with mentioning some random phrase that would link the blog on Google is not something I would court. THE SECRET INGREDIENT TO COCA-COLA. THE WEATHER IN LONDON. LADY GAGA’S PENIS.

Photo of The Day No. 28

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