7.5.14

Boom Bang A Bang!

Now if you read my stuff and know me well you will by now understand I like anything cheesy. Whether it be pop music or reality TV or a nice bit of bunting. So it should come as no surprise to you that I love and I mean LOVE Eurovision. OH GOD I LOVE IT! I cannot express the ways I love it. Stop shaking your head. It isn't crap. It is brilliant! I love everything about it. From the mad European entrants, to the fact we are always rubbish, to the sarcastic voice overs. Basically everything about it.

Every year I have a Eurovision party. Pimms is always on offer. As is a whole array of very bad for you types of food like sweets and cakes and chocolate. Sometimes the party consists of me, my Mother and my cat or sometimes I have a house full. We always have a vast array of GB bunting around and I enjoy printing piccys off of my favourite Eurovision singers. Obv Gina G and Michael Ball (goes without saying). I also worship at the alter of Terry Wogan. I don't like change remember so wasn't happy about Graham Norton but I have got over that. Just about.

We should have won Michael! You were robbed!

And do not get me started on the score cards. My friends and I love a scorecard. They can only be printed off right at the end of the day on the Friday before, so it is a mad rush to print them off using whoever is in work the latests computer (shhhh don't tell them). We always start off with the best intentions to score them properly. Then we get a bit tipsy. Or we miss a couple as we are gossiping. Or we fancy one band so re watch them. Or we are repulsed by a band so we re watch them. Basically we only ever score the first five. Max. Based on song, look, dance and if we fancy one or all four members of the band/love the singers dress.

Last years Euro fun!

So. Call me a loser. Say it is crap. Make vomiting noises. I love Eurovision. I can still remember the feeling when Katrina and the Waves won and when Michael Ball didn't. I know it is a con. I understand it is a fix and we will never win. But. Each year I wave my flag, drink Pimms, have a few (loads of) fruit pastilles and hope that this is the year we shall triumph over the ridiculous 'fixed' rules. And when we do? I shall cover myself in union jack bunting and do a small trot around my living room with my Mother. And cat.

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