So we were going to do one of those live, real-time, right-in-front-of-your-eyes Tweet things during this year’s Eurovish, but when you’ve been drinking since 1973 it’s difficult to find the letters on a keyboard.
And when we woke earlier today to find that the gentleman caller beside us was actually a half-eaten kebab (we’ll never get the grease out) we… oh no, forgotten where that one’s going.
And now we’ve gotten to thinking that not only does our new deodorant smell nice and it doesn’t leave unsightly white marks, but that we’ll have to turn down Elaine Paige on a Sunday if we’re ever going to get anything done round here.
As for Eurovish, the usual highly enjoyable wank, and Germany naturally shouldn’t have won but when is that ever relevant. And that woman’s got cunt written all over her.
The highlight was early on in the proceedings when man-in-bonnet invaded the stage during Spain’s performance but such is the shonky nature of Eurovish it was hard to tell whether he was part of the routine or not. Turns out not.
It was a fun thing, but when we discovered that man-in-bonnet man was in fact a professional shit-stirrer – he runs on lots of pitches across the globe – and not only that but has a name – Jimmy Jump – we felt we’d been short-changed. It’s just not cricket really, is it?
And if anyone needs us, we’ll be at that pool party thing at Shoreditch House, enjoying a delicious bowl of gay soup.