Jerry Kilgore is the clear-cut-no-doubts-whatsoever closet case running for Governor in Virginia. On his website he makes a naked plea for donations with Southern Queen mannerisms not seen in such force since Waylon Flowers.
For some inexplicable reason, he's ahead in the polls.
All I'm saying that this man looks like he is quite familiar with glory holes and truck stop sex, and based on my sexual history, I can spot that type a mile away.
(Yes, I'd do him...but only in the interest of converting him over for SP-USA.)
For more fun with Queen Jerry (who pronounces his hometown of Gate City as "Gay City") go here.
Wednesday, June 01, 2005
Lady, you and your man just plain crazy
How to spend a Tuesday night when denied your Splash & Rawhide fix:
Watch Britney & Kevin: Chaotic. Good god, it's like she is not even trying to salvage her career or even her image. Britney comes off as a self-absorbed isolated princess who is anxious to sully herself Lady Chatterley style with the greasy and trashy Kevin Federline. Mr. Federline, for his part, does nothing to dissuade the public from thinking of him as anything more than some ne'er-do-well penis with a human body unnecessarily attached.
My only question is why the hell would Shar Jackson have his kids? Britney & him seem far from being anything remotely close to intellectual, but Shar seemed like quite the smart lady in interviews.
Watch Britney & Kevin: Chaotic. Good god, it's like she is not even trying to salvage her career or even her image. Britney comes off as a self-absorbed isolated princess who is anxious to sully herself Lady Chatterley style with the greasy and trashy Kevin Federline. Mr. Federline, for his part, does nothing to dissuade the public from thinking of him as anything more than some ne'er-do-well penis with a human body unnecessarily attached.
My only question is why the hell would Shar Jackson have his kids? Britney & him seem far from being anything remotely close to intellectual, but Shar seemed like quite the smart lady in interviews.
Monday, May 30, 2005
Sunday, May 29, 2005
Diary of another mad black playwright queen
(Yeah, I'm talking to you, Tyler Perry. You closet case.)
Warning: This will be graphic.
Day three in the corset from hell. So named because it doesn't just incorporate a corset, but also the nearly inch deep bandages from the surgery. Also so named because the corset's gargantuan size causes it to also encompass the drainage that flows from the incision right above my crotch.
Unfortunately, until this hideous drain comes off [Wednesday], I have to wear this torture device 24 hours a day.
This means:
Warning: This will be graphic.
Day three in the corset from hell. So named because it doesn't just incorporate a corset, but also the nearly inch deep bandages from the surgery. Also so named because the corset's gargantuan size causes it to also encompass the drainage that flows from the incision right above my crotch.
Unfortunately, until this hideous drain comes off [Wednesday], I have to wear this torture device 24 hours a day.
This means:
- I have not bathed in 3 days. The only option is bathing with a washcloth. A friend (not Aron) will be doing the honours soon. Until then, I smell and am a de-facto hermit.
- I itch like mad, especially now that my abdomen is beginning to swell up.
- I can't sleep laying down, but instead have to sleep in a "deckchair position."
- I can't walk upright, lest the sutures become undone. I have to walk hunched over.
- I can't sit like a normal person. The corset renders me into being like a woman in the middle of pregnancy. My body has to contort into some strange position so as to--again--not break the sutures.
- I am essentially at my computer desk all the time, because my desk chair is the only one I have that can get me into this deckchair position with relative ease.
- I haven't done all the writing that I had hoped to get done, because it is just too damn uncomfortable.
And you don't even want to know how much fun using the bathroom is!
Running through my head during this whole process is that I willingly am subjecting myself to this. Perhaps, just perhaps, the ends will be satisfying enough for the journey taken to get there.
Or perhaps, I'm just a closet masochist?
Saturday, May 28, 2005
Totty for Friday
I probably should have more totty on here. So in order to correct the imbalance, I give you this post of Sakis Rouvas & Konstantinos (Sakis's Mr. Ripley.)
Happy Memorial Day Weekend.
Happy Memorial Day Weekend.
Friday, May 27, 2005
Post-Surgery
Back from the surgeon. Am barely wearing my underwear, courtesy of the compression vest with the added bonus of having a drain that has to be emptied of my blood every 4 hours.
This gets gruesome here...(I apologise)
I am quite keen on getting this drain removed, but it cannot get removed until the liquid turns yellow.
Having been prohibited from eating or drinking since Midnight, the first thing I wanted to do post-surgery is frankly dive face first into a vat of Krispy Kremes. Sadly, dairy is on the banned list for the first day as are most solid foods. In other words, I'm living on Miso soup, soda, and seltzer water.
I wish I was as lucky to be able to remove this godforesaken vest, but unfortunately this thing is on me 24/7 (well, at least until the surgeon gives the OK to remove it). Which means sponge baths.
On the upside, I've got Percoset (although that has to be taken with the gruel--I mean--food) and while it's not as trippy as Vicodin, it does the business.
What makes this all the more ironic or at least surreal, is that my primary caregiver throughout all of this is my recent ex-boyfriend. Upon meeting me in the recovery room, he passed out.
Pray for me.
This gets gruesome here...(I apologise)
I am quite keen on getting this drain removed, but it cannot get removed until the liquid turns yellow.
Having been prohibited from eating or drinking since Midnight, the first thing I wanted to do post-surgery is frankly dive face first into a vat of Krispy Kremes. Sadly, dairy is on the banned list for the first day as are most solid foods. In other words, I'm living on Miso soup, soda, and seltzer water.
I wish I was as lucky to be able to remove this godforesaken vest, but unfortunately this thing is on me 24/7 (well, at least until the surgeon gives the OK to remove it). Which means sponge baths.
On the upside, I've got Percoset (although that has to be taken with the gruel--I mean--food) and while it's not as trippy as Vicodin, it does the business.
What makes this all the more ironic or at least surreal, is that my primary caregiver throughout all of this is my recent ex-boyfriend. Upon meeting me in the recovery room, he passed out.
Pray for me.
Thursday, May 26, 2005
Cutting day
In less than 2 hours, I will be under the knife.
Indeed I'm getting a tummy tuck. This is part vanity and part necessity. When I left the UK, I weighed 160 pounds, down from 220. Working out has brought me up to 195, but much like old silly putty, my skin can only take so much stretching, ergo I have to get the excess lopped off.
Some of my friends ask me why do I feel a need to get this. Frankly, it's symbolism. The excess skin is like a reminder of the shy, awkward kid that doesn't quite mesh with the reality of the present.
It's like the old expression, sometimes you just have to let go in order to move on. In this case it's literal.
Here's the before picture:
Indeed I'm getting a tummy tuck. This is part vanity and part necessity. When I left the UK, I weighed 160 pounds, down from 220. Working out has brought me up to 195, but much like old silly putty, my skin can only take so much stretching, ergo I have to get the excess lopped off.
Some of my friends ask me why do I feel a need to get this. Frankly, it's symbolism. The excess skin is like a reminder of the shy, awkward kid that doesn't quite mesh with the reality of the present.
It's like the old expression, sometimes you just have to let go in order to move on. In this case it's literal.
Here's the before picture:
Splash-Rawhide Post Mortem: Crack & Chicken
It was a very brief night out for me, which is odd since I would think that the last real night I have before surgery would be akin to Mardi Gras and the Fall of Rome, but perhaps that was last week.
Due to the rain and the coat check beign downstairs, I hung around the downstairs bar last night. Alas, no Queer As Folk lookalikes on this night, which is a good thing. So here are several notable things that occurred in a special pre-surgery list format:
Due to the rain and the coat check beign downstairs, I hung around the downstairs bar last night. Alas, no Queer As Folk lookalikes on this night, which is a good thing. So here are several notable things that occurred in a special pre-surgery list format:
- Dance artists are mostly anonymous. Their videos try desperately to make you remember them. Unfortunately most of these are cheaply done and all you get are endless pans and close-ups of the singer "singing."
- Splash is really trying to hype up their Wednesday nights. The perky man who does the announcements at Splash promises "Guaranteed Chicken: all dancers under 21" on Wednesday nights. I will now never go to Splash on a Wednesday night.
- It was butt crack city last night with the bartenders. Almost all of them were showing some crack. Is there some new faux-plumber fashion craze that I have never heard of?
- Rawhide promises "NY's hottest go-go boys." If a short man with big muscles, a protruding belly, and a dancing style that consists basically of waddling is the best New York can offer, then I shudder to imagine what Newark offers.
Jiminy, I have lurid nights out.
Tuesday, May 24, 2005
He done lost his ever-loving mind
I have been on the fence as to whether or not Tom Cruise is gay, but after his appearance on Oprah yesterday...Miss Thing is acting like a major closet case.
Scientology can do that to you.
Scientology can do that to you.
Monday, May 23, 2005
The perfect man is a triumvirate
I ran this theory pass my trainer several days ago. (Note: he's married with children and 2 years my senior.)
It takes three people to make one person feel fulfilled:
It takes three people to make one person feel fulfilled:
- One serves as your confidante; the person who you tell all your dark secrets to.
- One serves as your lover (okay, fuck-buddy, stud, stallion, etc.)
- One serves as your helper; they help you clean house, help out with bills if need be...
If any one person can fit 2 of those slots, then you settle down with them, and figure out a way to get the third need met without losing the other two. When all three needs are met, then life is not necessarily perfect, but it runs a lot smoother.
My trainer's response: "I guess I got lucky."
So says he.
Sunday, May 22, 2005
The SWWBN ban may have to be lifted: Eurovision 2005 Final (Uncensored)
A quick note: I cut off the Spanish pre-show coverage a little bit too early. Not much was missed however, save for the fact that they finally allowed Las Supremas to sing “Eres un enfermo.”
The mystical bubbles yet again introduce on our cartoon journey through Ukraine. We then cut to the arena where a bunch of green opaque balls are thrown about by silhouetted people onstage. Lights and drums come on and we see that they are dancers. There is some man in a suit playing guitar and he stands out quite strikingly. Then…Ruslana in white! And guess what she doesn’t start out by singing “Wild Dances.” Her accent is still strong, and her outfits have actually gotten skimpier believe it or not. Oddly enough, this new song of hers has a very similar routine to “Wild Dances.” M’dear, we like you, but you have to expand your repertoire. Her backing dancers look ambiguous. Seriously, some of those men are awfully feminine looking.
Masha & Pasha enter. Masha is in some weird purple dress that looks like a reject from Swan Lake. Pasha is in a tuxedo and still sounds constipated. Has Ukraine run out of Ex-Lax? There’s a close up of Pasha. He has a unibrow. Oh, this will not do. I’m surprised Beatriz doesn’t comment on it. She sounds like she might disapprove of poor grooming.
NOX is introduced by a sped up film of Euroweek celebrations. Dance of the balding men still strong as it was in the Qualifier. The lead singer is noticeably less nasal. Hallelujah! The men, however, sound whiny. Have balding men always had those tattoos on their faces? It looks peculiar.
Javine gets a pretty seaside scene. Ah…Blackpool. Reports have her in bad vocal condition, so I’m curious how this goes. She sounds pretty strong so far. Javine is now in a tiny yellow dress and now looks more Beyonce-esque than ever. Beyonce meets Ancient Greece actually. She does dance and perform the hell out of this. I want this to do well, but I’m steeling myself for a mediocre position, since a) the competition is vicious this year and b) her voice ain’t quite 100% in some parts. Still, best UK entry in a long time.
Chiara gets firemen and fire in general. (Shouldn’t this go to Javine?) She’s alone onstage. (I’m keeping the jokes to myself.) Her voice continually surprises me. I keep expecting her to belt this song, but she stays permanently in this high, breathy voice that grates on my nerves. The crowd keeps applauding through it. Well people, you forced my hand, you people need to get out more if this is thrilling to you. They go wild, I go grab a soda.
Industry for Luminita & Sistem. Oh, the sparks! She’s still in the same busom-friendly corset. If the leaked out semi-final results are something to go by, this swept the Qualifier. If so, I am truly surprised because this really is not much. Screeching woman and a bunch of men pounding on drums. It gets really daft when Luminita joins in the drumming. The crowd “ooohs” and “ahhhs” for the sparks. They really lead sheltered lives, I tell you. Lord does she pour out the “thank you”s afterwards.
Grassland for Wig Wam. (I’m not saying there’s a connection there.) Well, Glam seems to have brought his A-game tonight because it doesn’t sound and look watered down as it did in the Qualifier. That being said, he has reverted back to the hirsute Marilyn Manson look, and that jumpsuit is doing him no favours. Waving the Orange flag is really cynical, I’m sorry. They’ll still win it or come 2nd.
Turkey gets oddly Turkish inspired scenes by the sea. This is now billed as being “Rimi Rimi Ley” as performed by “Gulseren & Shaman.” Wow, she really looks very Bollywood screen princess now. Words truly can’t describe it, but it’s a pretty (albeit near drag) look. Lots of dancing in this one. Lots of bare stomachs and arms on every one except for Gulseren. And just who is Shaman?
Zdob boys & Granny get break dancing and old men in their postcards. Yeah, that’s a good match. The lead singer is now shirtless with body paint over his right pec. He’s quite fit actually, like a young Iggy Pop. This is like Rusted Root concert on acid. Ponder the possibilities of Chisnau 2006 for awhile. He has corrected his grammar somewhat and says “gentlemen” now. He still screams “let’s make love,” and I hate to say this, but I have no idea where his crotch has been, so no.
Ledina gets street scenes. She does look kind of hooker-like, so I get it. Nice opening with Ledina whipping red scarves off of her “violinists” and drummer/acrobat. She actually looks very similar to Rita Guerra from 2003 and less trashy. The violinists however are pretty annoying. Pretty, but doing some atrocious choreography. The song ends with the drummer wrapping all the women in red fabric. O-k.
Konstantinos (aka Sakis Rouvas mk. II) is wearing a white shirt and pants and god, is this boy fey. Elina (of Greece 95) looks like she belongs in 1983 with that Irene Cara ensemble. There’s a bunch of moving mirrors here, and this whole thing is so choreography intense that you forget that there is a song. The music changes halfway through and they chant “come baby, come baby” as if it’s a mantra. Everybody onstage is taking this whole song way too seriously. The don’t-fuck-with-me-fellas look Konstantinos gives at the end just proves that point.
Son de Sol (aka the hags) get motorways in their postcard. Beatriz is only mildly enthusiastic about it. Well, well. We have the hags in their Andalucian dresses in blue, red, and gold. We have two faux bikers dancing backup, and we still have that horrid rapper. The hags have their bosoms on full display, so we know which vote their aiming for. It’s all quite tacky, and we know that Las Supremas would’ve brought it big time.
Shiri gets painters, lovers, and blimps. That’s not kind, she’s buxom, not fat. After Luminita, Ledina, and the hags, Shiri’s breasts seem downright modest. (And by the way, no gay man should have to discuss breasts this much unless they’re a gynaecologist.) Anyway, Shiri performs as strong as she did in the Qualifier, and frankly, I think she runs circles around Chiara, despite the lack of a crazy moment. (Then again, Chiara didn’t have one either.) It’s no “Shara Barechovot” but it’ll do.
No Name is introduced by pottery and…break dancing in folk costumes? These are some weird postcards. Oh lord, this is one daft opening. 4 of the boys put their hands up in the air, while the two singers walk down front like a teenage gay wedding. Then there’s a bit of Zorba-the-Greek style dancing, followed by two of them going crazy on the drums. Some more dancing and AIR VIOLIN!?! This song now has such a strong homoerotic subtext to it now. Well, this’ll never win but good on them for pouring on the homoeroticism.
A brief video showing all the contestants without makeup amongst other things. All I’m saying is that some of them should really keep the puff handy.
Pasha & Masha come back to pimp the official companion book. Masha is taking some coke breaks, I tell you. (And I don’t mean soda.) Pasha is on scag and still has his unibrow.
Denmark. Ships. Enough said. Jacob still whines like Ronan Keating, but will the Dambs still be daft? Yes, they are. Elvis can shake his hips. Mick Jagger can shake his hips. These Danes can’t, nor should they be allowed to…at least not on international television. This really is dire, to be honest. It’s like a bunch of Connecticut town fathers performing Four Tops hits. Blech.
Stenchmark gets the sea in his postcard…because he stinks, get it? Stinky’s jacket is less Liberace like and devoid of many sparkles. His backing bimbos are in catsuits, and I have to say they are pretty impressive with the choreography if not necessarily the vocals. Stinky barely moves and seems to be content with a simple 2 step. (Stinky doesn’t like complex thoughts, see.) As good looking as Stinky is, this song would be vastly more interesting with just the backing bimbos.
Martin (Balkan version) gets smokestacks in his postcard. I hate to say something nice about Stinky, but he would do a vastly better job with this song than Martin would. The camera does a close up of Martin when he sings “eyes” and clearly indicates the bags Martin has under them. There is so much lethargy onstage that the Balkan cumbia girls are the only people getting close to sweating. Martin’s male backing singers are truly pathetic. Unbelievable considering that Macedonia generally has excellent backing singers.
Greenjolly (hahaha) gets a bunch of people wearing orange in the street. (Like they’d pass up that opportunity.) This song still sounds fucking cool until they open their mouths. Jesus wept, they have two male dancers in hoods and chains onstage. They look like they have rickets when they dance. This really is like some bad agitprop theatre. What’s really weird, is that if you close your eyes it’s very stirring. Amazing what bad choreography can do. Bald rapper should never inflict his singing on EBU-land. Yeah, yeah, revolution, whatever.
Gracia gets scenes of an outside concert and a bar. After Norway and Ukraine, this really sounds like crap, frankly. That being said, Gracia has de-Mikaylah Gordon-ed herself by looking like some sort of biker dominatrix. This really is a so-so rock song, no more no less. The drummer’s fit though.
Boris is introduced by a bunch of women. Well, if the women were the only people onstage, it would be a considerably better song. Ok, I’ll be a real bitch queen here: those backing singers should not bare their midriffs. It does make them look like cheap harlots, and they most certainly aren’t that. (They’re extremely talented cheap harlots.) It sounds like they are singing “do-ro-bo” during the middle section, which elicits a laugh out of me. (“Dorobo” is Japanese for thief.) Great performance by everybody, except Boris who manages to give his all while seeming comatose.
SWWBN gets behind-the-scenes as her postcard. Good lord, she looks like slutty cheerleader. Pretty amazing with the choreography and I think this could honestly win it…if this was any other year than 2005. The competition is fierce this year. Her male dancers go bare-chested pretty quickly, and that is always a good thing. Good god, they all form a “1” during the dance break. All around excellent despite that OTT moment. (Beatriz found it funny.)
La Podolskaya gets scenes from a church. Yes, that’s quite a good way to introduce a song of school violence. She’s ditched the East Village look in favour of a sparkling Britney Spears bondage ensemble. The Russian PnC are neither in ponytails nor caps, but they still barely move. That is fine by me, since La Podolskaya does perform the living daylights out of it, though I still wonder if she really knows what she’s singing about, because at times I think she’s more focused on making sure the wind machine hits her hair correctly. In a weaker year this would walk it, but that’s not the case this year. Sorry.
(Better than Gracia though.)
Feminem gets shots of hills and dancing village girls. (I give up.) The women are dressed in pink Ancient Greek dresses. The general theme seems to be “watch us swivel our hips and see our backs.” This really is rather dated, but it goes along well with the trend of dancing, happy Bosnian entries. Excellent powerful singing, I must say, especially after all the spinning they have to do. Crowd appropriately goes wild afterwards.
Vanilla Ninja gets a band in a horse-drawn cart in their postcard. It oddly fits, given the dark mood of the song. They still look like a band composed of Lindsay Lohan clones, but I didn’t hold that against them in the Qualifier, and I won’t hold that against them now. Frankly, this is the rock song of this contest and deserves to win. The flag wavers in the crowd go crazy during this.
Rentboy hippies next. Their postcard is basically scenes from the country. (There are rural male prostitutes too, you know.) I’m already coming into this hating them, and so the fun in this entry is waiting for one of them to mess up. Blonde rentboy hippie with the big nose is wearing an ugly pattern of circles on his jacket. Why does he think he’s so special? No Name clearly beat them for me. One of them arrogant shouts “thank you people” at the end.
Ortal is appropriately introduced by a fashion show. (France = Fashion.) Beatriz mentions that France hasn’t won since 1977. (Pot calling the kettle black, if you ask me.) Ortal is in a far from flattering yellow dress, while her backing singers/dancers are in far sexier black tank tops/blouses. Her male dancers do give the Greek boys a good run for their money in terms of male beauty. This song does have excellent lyrics, but Ortal is really underperforming this song. Her backing however, is kicking ass. I know this won’t win, but I do hope it places midtable.
Pasha & Masha come back. Masha is still high and wearing Studio 54 silver. Pasha has a silver bowtie now. (He can only take so much change.) They bring out the Klitchko brothers (boxers) to ring the bells to start the voting. Vladimir speaks excellent sane English, I have to say. Why are we stuck with Pasha?
Recap. Chiara really pales in comparison to Shiri. Wig Wam is 85% what they could be. Zdob si Zdub still deranged in a good way. Konstantinos still prancing around like a sadistic dance coach. The hags look positively conservative compared to what preceded them. No Name is homoerotic and wholesome. Stinky still stinky. Martin is the personification of half-assed effort. Greenjolly should never let that man sing, and should shoot their choreographers. Boris is emotive and comatose simultaneously. SWWBN flipping brilliant. La Podolskaya: vapid or soulful? We don’t know yet. Feminem are talented. The Lindsay Lohan clones kick most of the other entries’ asses. Ortal is 45% away from where she should be.
Pasha & Masha annoyingly introduce a film about Kiev/Kyiv and the preparations done to the arena. After seeing Vladimir, I so want him to take out Pasha and slap him out of his monotone. The film ends and they cut to a live shot from Independence Square in downtown Kyiv/Kiev. As annoying as these two are, I do like their countdown towards the end of the voting period.
Interval now. A bunch of men beat on drums. Why do they all look like Yanni? They are identified as the Kiev Percussion Ensemble “ARS-NOVA.”
Arses over with, we see some man dance and struggle in his pyjamas. I’m certain there’s a message here beyond “wow, is he flexible.” Yet whatever it is, it’s lost to me. I just keep on wondering what his abdominal routine is. He sheds his shirt and I’m beginning to think that his trousers are next, but he puts it back on.
The Arses start up again, this time to introduce Ruslana. Now she’s all in red, with what looks like a candy necklace. Her backing dancers are now all male, but they all look like extras from Flash Gordon. Wrote too soon. She brought on some women backers now and they are dressed exactly the same. Now, is Ruslana an insecure woman? She seems to ugly up all of her backing dancers male and female. All that being said, this song of hers is pretty good except that they keep playing “Te Deum” over it. That’s mean of them.
Pasha & Masha come back to start the voting. Pasha is in the greenroom which looks like a Beaux-Arts meets Soviet functionality ballroom. Oh lord, Masha is going to be handling the voting. This is going to be a long results segment. Pasha rushes onstage just before Austria gives their vote. (I can’t believe I’m happy to see Pasha, but the thought of dealing solely with Masha is terrifying.)
These votes are long, so I’m only recapping the 12 points.
Austria: 12 to Serbia & Montenegro (none to Hungary or Switzerland!)
Lithuania (very fit spokesperson): 12 to Latvia. (Why?)
Portugal (wow, she’s not modest): 12 to Romania
Monaco (the Monegasque Alanis Morrisette): 12 to Israel
Belarus (oh my god, what is this blonde bimbo wearing?): 12 to Russia (La Podolskaya is from Belarus, you know)
Netherlands (does she have any clothes on?): 12 to Turkey
Iceland (blue bondage gear, nice idea): 12 to Norway (Denmark was too sedate for the 12)
Belgium (that’s a big necklace): 12 to Greece (none to Switzerland or France)
Estonia (Maarja is getting more conservative these days): 12 to Switzerland (guilt points)
Finland (Jari is camper than ever, Beatriz even laughs at him): 12 to Norway (Long live Nordic Rock)
Switzerland is now in the lead with Israel and Malta close by.
Andorra (Her French confused Pasha, haha): 12 to Spain (like that was a shock)
Bulgaria (She’s pretty and modest. I like her): 12 to Greece (Hands across the Balkans)
Ireland (Dana hasn’t aged well. Hate does that to you): 12 to Latvia (Shame, shame, shame)
Slovenia: 12 to Croatia
Poland (Not reading the votes, but the headlines): 12 to Ukraine (Aww, that’s sweet of them)
Hungary (a very sober-looking woman): 12 to Greece
UK (Cheryl Baker getting tipsy. Nice.): 12 to Greece
Malta: 12 to Cyprus (Solidarity between small islands)
Greenroom now with Ruslana & Vladimir. This is truly beyond funny. They are hamming this up so much. Think about it, we nearly got them as host. Oh, that would’ve been fun.
Romania (He gets little thrills in life): 12 to Moldova (aka Romania East)
Norway (What the hell is she wearing? And what are her drugs, because I want them): 12 to Denmark (Thank god it wasn’t to Stinky)
Latvia in the lead closely followed by Greece. Guess which one I want to win between those two.
Turkey (say no to sparkling sweaters): 12 to Greece (I have hope for world peace now.)
Moldova (Yikes, does she know that it’s not 1991?): 12 to Latvia (Romania only got 7.)
Albania (The Director of the Albanian National Opera? Huh?): 12 to Greece (See Turkey.)
Cyprus: 12 to Greece (No surprise, but never before so critical for a win)
Spain (Ainhoa is noticeably competent than earlier): 12 to Romania
Israel ("the results of the Israeli audience?" Correct, but strange): 12 to Romania (They lose it in the greenroom)
Serbia & Montenegro (They’re very serious in Podgorica, aren’t they?): 12 to Greece (Now the Greeks are losing it.)
Denmark (Hehe. Danish is a funny language.): 12 to Norway (Eww. Glam licked his finger at me.)
Sweden (I like her. She’s matronly and funky.): 12 to Greece (SWWBN is Swedish, and she loses it in Swedish in the Greenroom.)
Macedonia (Is that Karolina? Go girl!): 12 to Albania (Diaspora)
Greece is in the lead, Romania not close, Malta even further away.
Ukraine (Now that’s blonde! And they have a blonde moment with the votes too): 12 to Moldova
Germany (Axel is his sparkly self): 12 to Greece (SWWBN is loses it. Beatriz comments on the Turkish diaspora.)
Croatia (So that’s where Pink has been?): 12 to Serbia & Montenegro
Greece (A sports commentator. Extremely collected given the results so far): 12 to Cyprus (Doesn’t help them.)
Russia (She’s posh, isn’t she?): 12 to Malta (No comment.)
Bosnia & Herzegovina (That’s Miss Bosnia?): 12 to Croatia (Ditto.)
Switzerland: 12 to Serbia & Montenegro (No Name jump.)
Latvia (Wow, Marie N has changed): 12 to Switzerland (The Lindsay Lohans lose it.)
France (Putting on a brave face): 12 to Turkey
Greece wins it! Thank god, I was worried that it was going to be the rentboy hippies. SWWBN is noticeably composed considering that the Greeks have been praying for a win for many years.
Interesting tidbit: The Big 4 are the bottom 4, if my last check of the scoreboard was correct.
Pasha makes a tedious “[SWWBN] & Ruslana” joke. And guess who presents the award? President Yushchenko himself. Fancy. Actually, it’s quite moving to be honest.
SWWBN reprises and does a bang-up job. She deserves it. I think she out “Javined” Javine.
The mystical bubbles yet again introduce on our cartoon journey through Ukraine. We then cut to the arena where a bunch of green opaque balls are thrown about by silhouetted people onstage. Lights and drums come on and we see that they are dancers. There is some man in a suit playing guitar and he stands out quite strikingly. Then…Ruslana in white! And guess what she doesn’t start out by singing “Wild Dances.” Her accent is still strong, and her outfits have actually gotten skimpier believe it or not. Oddly enough, this new song of hers has a very similar routine to “Wild Dances.” M’dear, we like you, but you have to expand your repertoire. Her backing dancers look ambiguous. Seriously, some of those men are awfully feminine looking.
Masha & Pasha enter. Masha is in some weird purple dress that looks like a reject from Swan Lake. Pasha is in a tuxedo and still sounds constipated. Has Ukraine run out of Ex-Lax? There’s a close up of Pasha. He has a unibrow. Oh, this will not do. I’m surprised Beatriz doesn’t comment on it. She sounds like she might disapprove of poor grooming.
NOX is introduced by a sped up film of Euroweek celebrations. Dance of the balding men still strong as it was in the Qualifier. The lead singer is noticeably less nasal. Hallelujah! The men, however, sound whiny. Have balding men always had those tattoos on their faces? It looks peculiar.
Javine gets a pretty seaside scene. Ah…Blackpool. Reports have her in bad vocal condition, so I’m curious how this goes. She sounds pretty strong so far. Javine is now in a tiny yellow dress and now looks more Beyonce-esque than ever. Beyonce meets Ancient Greece actually. She does dance and perform the hell out of this. I want this to do well, but I’m steeling myself for a mediocre position, since a) the competition is vicious this year and b) her voice ain’t quite 100% in some parts. Still, best UK entry in a long time.
Chiara gets firemen and fire in general. (Shouldn’t this go to Javine?) She’s alone onstage. (I’m keeping the jokes to myself.) Her voice continually surprises me. I keep expecting her to belt this song, but she stays permanently in this high, breathy voice that grates on my nerves. The crowd keeps applauding through it. Well people, you forced my hand, you people need to get out more if this is thrilling to you. They go wild, I go grab a soda.
Industry for Luminita & Sistem. Oh, the sparks! She’s still in the same busom-friendly corset. If the leaked out semi-final results are something to go by, this swept the Qualifier. If so, I am truly surprised because this really is not much. Screeching woman and a bunch of men pounding on drums. It gets really daft when Luminita joins in the drumming. The crowd “ooohs” and “ahhhs” for the sparks. They really lead sheltered lives, I tell you. Lord does she pour out the “thank you”s afterwards.
Grassland for Wig Wam. (I’m not saying there’s a connection there.) Well, Glam seems to have brought his A-game tonight because it doesn’t sound and look watered down as it did in the Qualifier. That being said, he has reverted back to the hirsute Marilyn Manson look, and that jumpsuit is doing him no favours. Waving the Orange flag is really cynical, I’m sorry. They’ll still win it or come 2nd.
Turkey gets oddly Turkish inspired scenes by the sea. This is now billed as being “Rimi Rimi Ley” as performed by “Gulseren & Shaman.” Wow, she really looks very Bollywood screen princess now. Words truly can’t describe it, but it’s a pretty (albeit near drag) look. Lots of dancing in this one. Lots of bare stomachs and arms on every one except for Gulseren. And just who is Shaman?
Zdob boys & Granny get break dancing and old men in their postcards. Yeah, that’s a good match. The lead singer is now shirtless with body paint over his right pec. He’s quite fit actually, like a young Iggy Pop. This is like Rusted Root concert on acid. Ponder the possibilities of Chisnau 2006 for awhile. He has corrected his grammar somewhat and says “gentlemen” now. He still screams “let’s make love,” and I hate to say this, but I have no idea where his crotch has been, so no.
Ledina gets street scenes. She does look kind of hooker-like, so I get it. Nice opening with Ledina whipping red scarves off of her “violinists” and drummer/acrobat. She actually looks very similar to Rita Guerra from 2003 and less trashy. The violinists however are pretty annoying. Pretty, but doing some atrocious choreography. The song ends with the drummer wrapping all the women in red fabric. O-k.
Konstantinos (aka Sakis Rouvas mk. II) is wearing a white shirt and pants and god, is this boy fey. Elina (of Greece 95) looks like she belongs in 1983 with that Irene Cara ensemble. There’s a bunch of moving mirrors here, and this whole thing is so choreography intense that you forget that there is a song. The music changes halfway through and they chant “come baby, come baby” as if it’s a mantra. Everybody onstage is taking this whole song way too seriously. The don’t-fuck-with-me-fellas look Konstantinos gives at the end just proves that point.
Son de Sol (aka the hags) get motorways in their postcard. Beatriz is only mildly enthusiastic about it. Well, well. We have the hags in their Andalucian dresses in blue, red, and gold. We have two faux bikers dancing backup, and we still have that horrid rapper. The hags have their bosoms on full display, so we know which vote their aiming for. It’s all quite tacky, and we know that Las Supremas would’ve brought it big time.
Shiri gets painters, lovers, and blimps. That’s not kind, she’s buxom, not fat. After Luminita, Ledina, and the hags, Shiri’s breasts seem downright modest. (And by the way, no gay man should have to discuss breasts this much unless they’re a gynaecologist.) Anyway, Shiri performs as strong as she did in the Qualifier, and frankly, I think she runs circles around Chiara, despite the lack of a crazy moment. (Then again, Chiara didn’t have one either.) It’s no “Shara Barechovot” but it’ll do.
No Name is introduced by pottery and…break dancing in folk costumes? These are some weird postcards. Oh lord, this is one daft opening. 4 of the boys put their hands up in the air, while the two singers walk down front like a teenage gay wedding. Then there’s a bit of Zorba-the-Greek style dancing, followed by two of them going crazy on the drums. Some more dancing and AIR VIOLIN!?! This song now has such a strong homoerotic subtext to it now. Well, this’ll never win but good on them for pouring on the homoeroticism.
A brief video showing all the contestants without makeup amongst other things. All I’m saying is that some of them should really keep the puff handy.
Pasha & Masha come back to pimp the official companion book. Masha is taking some coke breaks, I tell you. (And I don’t mean soda.) Pasha is on scag and still has his unibrow.
Denmark. Ships. Enough said. Jacob still whines like Ronan Keating, but will the Dambs still be daft? Yes, they are. Elvis can shake his hips. Mick Jagger can shake his hips. These Danes can’t, nor should they be allowed to…at least not on international television. This really is dire, to be honest. It’s like a bunch of Connecticut town fathers performing Four Tops hits. Blech.
Stenchmark gets the sea in his postcard…because he stinks, get it? Stinky’s jacket is less Liberace like and devoid of many sparkles. His backing bimbos are in catsuits, and I have to say they are pretty impressive with the choreography if not necessarily the vocals. Stinky barely moves and seems to be content with a simple 2 step. (Stinky doesn’t like complex thoughts, see.) As good looking as Stinky is, this song would be vastly more interesting with just the backing bimbos.
Martin (Balkan version) gets smokestacks in his postcard. I hate to say something nice about Stinky, but he would do a vastly better job with this song than Martin would. The camera does a close up of Martin when he sings “eyes” and clearly indicates the bags Martin has under them. There is so much lethargy onstage that the Balkan cumbia girls are the only people getting close to sweating. Martin’s male backing singers are truly pathetic. Unbelievable considering that Macedonia generally has excellent backing singers.
Greenjolly (hahaha) gets a bunch of people wearing orange in the street. (Like they’d pass up that opportunity.) This song still sounds fucking cool until they open their mouths. Jesus wept, they have two male dancers in hoods and chains onstage. They look like they have rickets when they dance. This really is like some bad agitprop theatre. What’s really weird, is that if you close your eyes it’s very stirring. Amazing what bad choreography can do. Bald rapper should never inflict his singing on EBU-land. Yeah, yeah, revolution, whatever.
Gracia gets scenes of an outside concert and a bar. After Norway and Ukraine, this really sounds like crap, frankly. That being said, Gracia has de-Mikaylah Gordon-ed herself by looking like some sort of biker dominatrix. This really is a so-so rock song, no more no less. The drummer’s fit though.
Boris is introduced by a bunch of women. Well, if the women were the only people onstage, it would be a considerably better song. Ok, I’ll be a real bitch queen here: those backing singers should not bare their midriffs. It does make them look like cheap harlots, and they most certainly aren’t that. (They’re extremely talented cheap harlots.) It sounds like they are singing “do-ro-bo” during the middle section, which elicits a laugh out of me. (“Dorobo” is Japanese for thief.) Great performance by everybody, except Boris who manages to give his all while seeming comatose.
SWWBN gets behind-the-scenes as her postcard. Good lord, she looks like slutty cheerleader. Pretty amazing with the choreography and I think this could honestly win it…if this was any other year than 2005. The competition is fierce this year. Her male dancers go bare-chested pretty quickly, and that is always a good thing. Good god, they all form a “1” during the dance break. All around excellent despite that OTT moment. (Beatriz found it funny.)
La Podolskaya gets scenes from a church. Yes, that’s quite a good way to introduce a song of school violence. She’s ditched the East Village look in favour of a sparkling Britney Spears bondage ensemble. The Russian PnC are neither in ponytails nor caps, but they still barely move. That is fine by me, since La Podolskaya does perform the living daylights out of it, though I still wonder if she really knows what she’s singing about, because at times I think she’s more focused on making sure the wind machine hits her hair correctly. In a weaker year this would walk it, but that’s not the case this year. Sorry.
(Better than Gracia though.)
Feminem gets shots of hills and dancing village girls. (I give up.) The women are dressed in pink Ancient Greek dresses. The general theme seems to be “watch us swivel our hips and see our backs.” This really is rather dated, but it goes along well with the trend of dancing, happy Bosnian entries. Excellent powerful singing, I must say, especially after all the spinning they have to do. Crowd appropriately goes wild afterwards.
Vanilla Ninja gets a band in a horse-drawn cart in their postcard. It oddly fits, given the dark mood of the song. They still look like a band composed of Lindsay Lohan clones, but I didn’t hold that against them in the Qualifier, and I won’t hold that against them now. Frankly, this is the rock song of this contest and deserves to win. The flag wavers in the crowd go crazy during this.
Rentboy hippies next. Their postcard is basically scenes from the country. (There are rural male prostitutes too, you know.) I’m already coming into this hating them, and so the fun in this entry is waiting for one of them to mess up. Blonde rentboy hippie with the big nose is wearing an ugly pattern of circles on his jacket. Why does he think he’s so special? No Name clearly beat them for me. One of them arrogant shouts “thank you people” at the end.
Ortal is appropriately introduced by a fashion show. (France = Fashion.) Beatriz mentions that France hasn’t won since 1977. (Pot calling the kettle black, if you ask me.) Ortal is in a far from flattering yellow dress, while her backing singers/dancers are in far sexier black tank tops/blouses. Her male dancers do give the Greek boys a good run for their money in terms of male beauty. This song does have excellent lyrics, but Ortal is really underperforming this song. Her backing however, is kicking ass. I know this won’t win, but I do hope it places midtable.
Pasha & Masha come back. Masha is still high and wearing Studio 54 silver. Pasha has a silver bowtie now. (He can only take so much change.) They bring out the Klitchko brothers (boxers) to ring the bells to start the voting. Vladimir speaks excellent sane English, I have to say. Why are we stuck with Pasha?
Recap. Chiara really pales in comparison to Shiri. Wig Wam is 85% what they could be. Zdob si Zdub still deranged in a good way. Konstantinos still prancing around like a sadistic dance coach. The hags look positively conservative compared to what preceded them. No Name is homoerotic and wholesome. Stinky still stinky. Martin is the personification of half-assed effort. Greenjolly should never let that man sing, and should shoot their choreographers. Boris is emotive and comatose simultaneously. SWWBN flipping brilliant. La Podolskaya: vapid or soulful? We don’t know yet. Feminem are talented. The Lindsay Lohan clones kick most of the other entries’ asses. Ortal is 45% away from where she should be.
Pasha & Masha annoyingly introduce a film about Kiev/Kyiv and the preparations done to the arena. After seeing Vladimir, I so want him to take out Pasha and slap him out of his monotone. The film ends and they cut to a live shot from Independence Square in downtown Kyiv/Kiev. As annoying as these two are, I do like their countdown towards the end of the voting period.
Interval now. A bunch of men beat on drums. Why do they all look like Yanni? They are identified as the Kiev Percussion Ensemble “ARS-NOVA.”
Arses over with, we see some man dance and struggle in his pyjamas. I’m certain there’s a message here beyond “wow, is he flexible.” Yet whatever it is, it’s lost to me. I just keep on wondering what his abdominal routine is. He sheds his shirt and I’m beginning to think that his trousers are next, but he puts it back on.
The Arses start up again, this time to introduce Ruslana. Now she’s all in red, with what looks like a candy necklace. Her backing dancers are now all male, but they all look like extras from Flash Gordon. Wrote too soon. She brought on some women backers now and they are dressed exactly the same. Now, is Ruslana an insecure woman? She seems to ugly up all of her backing dancers male and female. All that being said, this song of hers is pretty good except that they keep playing “Te Deum” over it. That’s mean of them.
Pasha & Masha come back to start the voting. Pasha is in the greenroom which looks like a Beaux-Arts meets Soviet functionality ballroom. Oh lord, Masha is going to be handling the voting. This is going to be a long results segment. Pasha rushes onstage just before Austria gives their vote. (I can’t believe I’m happy to see Pasha, but the thought of dealing solely with Masha is terrifying.)
These votes are long, so I’m only recapping the 12 points.
Austria: 12 to Serbia & Montenegro (none to Hungary or Switzerland!)
Lithuania (very fit spokesperson): 12 to Latvia. (Why?)
Portugal (wow, she’s not modest): 12 to Romania
Monaco (the Monegasque Alanis Morrisette): 12 to Israel
Belarus (oh my god, what is this blonde bimbo wearing?): 12 to Russia (La Podolskaya is from Belarus, you know)
Netherlands (does she have any clothes on?): 12 to Turkey
Iceland (blue bondage gear, nice idea): 12 to Norway (Denmark was too sedate for the 12)
Belgium (that’s a big necklace): 12 to Greece (none to Switzerland or France)
Estonia (Maarja is getting more conservative these days): 12 to Switzerland (guilt points)
Finland (Jari is camper than ever, Beatriz even laughs at him): 12 to Norway (Long live Nordic Rock)
Switzerland is now in the lead with Israel and Malta close by.
Andorra (Her French confused Pasha, haha): 12 to Spain (like that was a shock)
Bulgaria (She’s pretty and modest. I like her): 12 to Greece (Hands across the Balkans)
Ireland (Dana hasn’t aged well. Hate does that to you): 12 to Latvia (Shame, shame, shame)
Slovenia: 12 to Croatia
Poland (Not reading the votes, but the headlines): 12 to Ukraine (Aww, that’s sweet of them)
Hungary (a very sober-looking woman): 12 to Greece
UK (Cheryl Baker getting tipsy. Nice.): 12 to Greece
Malta: 12 to Cyprus (Solidarity between small islands)
Greenroom now with Ruslana & Vladimir. This is truly beyond funny. They are hamming this up so much. Think about it, we nearly got them as host. Oh, that would’ve been fun.
Romania (He gets little thrills in life): 12 to Moldova (aka Romania East)
Norway (What the hell is she wearing? And what are her drugs, because I want them): 12 to Denmark (Thank god it wasn’t to Stinky)
Latvia in the lead closely followed by Greece. Guess which one I want to win between those two.
Turkey (say no to sparkling sweaters): 12 to Greece (I have hope for world peace now.)
Moldova (Yikes, does she know that it’s not 1991?): 12 to Latvia (Romania only got 7.)
Albania (The Director of the Albanian National Opera? Huh?): 12 to Greece (See Turkey.)
Cyprus: 12 to Greece (No surprise, but never before so critical for a win)
Spain (Ainhoa is noticeably competent than earlier): 12 to Romania
Israel ("the results of the Israeli audience?" Correct, but strange): 12 to Romania (They lose it in the greenroom)
Serbia & Montenegro (They’re very serious in Podgorica, aren’t they?): 12 to Greece (Now the Greeks are losing it.)
Denmark (Hehe. Danish is a funny language.): 12 to Norway (Eww. Glam licked his finger at me.)
Sweden (I like her. She’s matronly and funky.): 12 to Greece (SWWBN is Swedish, and she loses it in Swedish in the Greenroom.)
Macedonia (Is that Karolina? Go girl!): 12 to Albania (Diaspora)
Greece is in the lead, Romania not close, Malta even further away.
Ukraine (Now that’s blonde! And they have a blonde moment with the votes too): 12 to Moldova
Germany (Axel is his sparkly self): 12 to Greece (SWWBN is loses it. Beatriz comments on the Turkish diaspora.)
Croatia (So that’s where Pink has been?): 12 to Serbia & Montenegro
Greece (A sports commentator. Extremely collected given the results so far): 12 to Cyprus (Doesn’t help them.)
Russia (She’s posh, isn’t she?): 12 to Malta (No comment.)
Bosnia & Herzegovina (That’s Miss Bosnia?): 12 to Croatia (Ditto.)
Switzerland: 12 to Serbia & Montenegro (No Name jump.)
Latvia (Wow, Marie N has changed): 12 to Switzerland (The Lindsay Lohans lose it.)
France (Putting on a brave face): 12 to Turkey
Greece wins it! Thank god, I was worried that it was going to be the rentboy hippies. SWWBN is noticeably composed considering that the Greeks have been praying for a win for many years.
Interesting tidbit: The Big 4 are the bottom 4, if my last check of the scoreboard was correct.
Pasha makes a tedious “[SWWBN] & Ruslana” joke. And guess who presents the award? President Yushchenko himself. Fancy. Actually, it’s quite moving to be honest.
SWWBN reprises and does a bang-up job. She deserves it. I think she out “Javined” Javine.
Don Carlos Strikes Back: The Spanish Eurovision 2005 Pre-show
I am extremely grateful to Time Warner and TVE for allowing people in New York to watch ESC on television as opposed to hunched up in front of a computer. Spain doesn’t need better PR for me, but I’m going to say this: legalised gay marriage, a Socialist government, a delightfully psychedelic national final, handsome men, a strong vibrant national cinema…I’m this close to immigrating or at least applying for citizenship.
Now, that the politeness is out of the way, I can be catty.
Before I get to the final proper, some brief coverage of the Spanish pre-show (nearly 3 hours long, by the way): I got into it relatively late (see previous post), but when I tuned in, I was greeted with Las Supremas doing a medley of Spanish Eurovision entries. Imagine three Phyllis Diller clones with strong accents singing “Europe’s living a Celebration.” This is followed up by Don Carlos and his co-host who looks like TVE’s answer to Katie Couric, (who has the perfect name for a telenovela: Laura Valenzuela) introducing some previous Spanish entrants: Micky, Sergio & Estibaliz, Karina, and Betty Missego. The general theme here is that being the Spanish entrant in the 1970’s makes you chunky (Estibaliz and Karina), camp (Micky and Betty), and age badly (Sergio). Don Carlos and Beatriz play a brief Eurovision quiz with the former entrants and to their credit, they are all game. I don’t know if I’d be quite keen to say on national television that I know how many “La”s there are in “La La La.” Nonetheless, Micky won and looked quite pleased to receive his anorak’s trophy from Las Supremas. I do honestly wonder how crazy Kiev/Kyiv would’ve been with them there instead of the witches proclaiming to speak for the sun.
After a brief segment with some big shot in Ecija, Don Carlos and David Civera talk to fortune tellers who give their predictions on how each of the finalists will fare on the scoreboard. Fortune tellers. Predictions. Rainbow candles. Now, I do believe in fortune tellers and astrology, but this is just bizarre. More absurdist comedy is brought by Las Supremas who interview ickle David with questions about cyber-sex. David lies his way through it, because we all know he’s a big old cyber pervert. This whole segment is quite interesting, but Las Supremas occasionally get on my nerves by repeating “eres un enfermo” 500 or so times. David Civera performs the same damn song he sang during the final, and it’s still god-awful. I think he’s actually lip-syncing his way through it. I’d love it if some kind Spaniard out there would tell me if David does have any career to speak of, because if this is what he’s been singing since 2001, then he’s in deep trouble.
A brief personal note: Eurovision night can be unbelievably nerve-racking. For that reason, the smoking hiatus I've been on is out the window today (and only from the pre-show to the end of the final).
After a brief stroll down Eurovision Memory Lane with Jose Maria Inigo, Don Carlos brings out the pretty people...in other words the Operacion Triunfo alumni. However, he goes straight to Kiev/Kyiv to talk with the unfortunately named Beatriz Pecker, who will be doing the TVE commentary tonight. Beatriz looks no-nonsense and I suspect that Don Carlos is pissed that his suave self has no effect on him.
It's back off to Ecija to talk with the hags' friends & family, because the hags are watching this from Ukraine. Don Carlos barges in on this family moment to ask them the standard beauty pagent questions: "How do you feel? Are you prepared for tonight?" Blah, blah, blah get back to the pretty people from OT.
And he does. For some strange reason, they are all sitting on top of the desk as opposed to behind it. Don Carlos puts his arms around Ramon. I don't want to start a rumour or anything, but the last time a man put his arm around me like that, I was naked with him minutes later. I'm certain these are all decent people, but Don Carlos and the pretty people posse remind of the film Mean Girls with their smugness and preening for the camera.
One of the pretty people, Nuria, gets to perform. Her song "Palabritas" is pretty much a standard flamenco ballad. She, however, does ooze star appeal and I have to wonder why TVE hasn't tried to get her into Eurovision.
Commercials. An advert for Telepizza makes me call Domino's. Evil, just evil. Oh well, I'm going to the gym tomorrow.
Don Carlos welcomes us back from the audience composed of "Eurofans" and Jose Maria who looks a lot like Perry Farrell from Jane's Addiction. I realise now that Don Carlos hasn't changed his outfit since the national final. Creepy. Anyway, this is a segue to introduce the Spanish fan contingent in Ukraine. Beatriz handles this with panache. I like this lady. She's my kind of woman. Oh my god, it's the guys behind Eurovision Madrid. Oye, guapos! Eres mucho sexy!
Previews now. Oddly they include Iceland, who did NOT qualify for the final. Someone is asleep at the booth over at TVE.
Don Carlos introduces Lolita, who looks like she should be presenting the news over on Telemundo instead of pursuing a singing career. She is considerably older than her name implies. I'm not saying she's bad looking, but I'm just saying that a middle aged woman with the name Lolita is very ironic, because Lolita has certainly been around the block several times over. Damn good singer nonetheless. I'd like to see her and Nuria tear up a really good stomper of a song. Hint, hint TVE.
One last toss over to Ecija with Juan Carlos Cerezo. Juan Carlos is no Don Carlos. He's dull, stuffy, and just oozes desperation. He also has daft yuppie hair. I miss my perma-tanned omnisexual Don Carlos.
Good lord, a clip of Maria Isabel. However, when we return to the studio we see Las Supremas. And guess what? They are going to sing Maria Isabel's winning song. It's pretty good, but this is so surreal that words fail me. Phyllis Diller clones singing that they'd rather be dead than simple. There's this whole menopause subtext for this song now.
Commercials. Tierra del Toros? Funny. It reminds me of the cheer in Bring it on.
Don Carlos brings us back to introduce us to Ainhoa, still loopy lo these weeks since the national final. She'll be giving the Spanish results tonight.
A brief film on how hard (with mixed results) NTU and SVT has been working behind the scenes. Did you know that this will be broadcast in Australia? (I'm being sarcastic, because as you know, we'd be screwed in the US if it wasn't for TVE.)
Don Carlos brings Lolita back on to sing us out. She's now in full flamenco form, breast threatening to escape her dress and all. This woman is a pretty impressive performer. Shame about her name, but hey, Madonna is pretty ironic too.
Now, that the politeness is out of the way, I can be catty.
Before I get to the final proper, some brief coverage of the Spanish pre-show (nearly 3 hours long, by the way): I got into it relatively late (see previous post), but when I tuned in, I was greeted with Las Supremas doing a medley of Spanish Eurovision entries. Imagine three Phyllis Diller clones with strong accents singing “Europe’s living a Celebration.” This is followed up by Don Carlos and his co-host who looks like TVE’s answer to Katie Couric, (who has the perfect name for a telenovela: Laura Valenzuela) introducing some previous Spanish entrants: Micky, Sergio & Estibaliz, Karina, and Betty Missego. The general theme here is that being the Spanish entrant in the 1970’s makes you chunky (Estibaliz and Karina), camp (Micky and Betty), and age badly (Sergio). Don Carlos and Beatriz play a brief Eurovision quiz with the former entrants and to their credit, they are all game. I don’t know if I’d be quite keen to say on national television that I know how many “La”s there are in “La La La.” Nonetheless, Micky won and looked quite pleased to receive his anorak’s trophy from Las Supremas. I do honestly wonder how crazy Kiev/Kyiv would’ve been with them there instead of the witches proclaiming to speak for the sun.
After a brief segment with some big shot in Ecija, Don Carlos and David Civera talk to fortune tellers who give their predictions on how each of the finalists will fare on the scoreboard. Fortune tellers. Predictions. Rainbow candles. Now, I do believe in fortune tellers and astrology, but this is just bizarre. More absurdist comedy is brought by Las Supremas who interview ickle David with questions about cyber-sex. David lies his way through it, because we all know he’s a big old cyber pervert. This whole segment is quite interesting, but Las Supremas occasionally get on my nerves by repeating “eres un enfermo” 500 or so times. David Civera performs the same damn song he sang during the final, and it’s still god-awful. I think he’s actually lip-syncing his way through it. I’d love it if some kind Spaniard out there would tell me if David does have any career to speak of, because if this is what he’s been singing since 2001, then he’s in deep trouble.
A brief personal note: Eurovision night can be unbelievably nerve-racking. For that reason, the smoking hiatus I've been on is out the window today (and only from the pre-show to the end of the final).
After a brief stroll down Eurovision Memory Lane with Jose Maria Inigo, Don Carlos brings out the pretty people...in other words the Operacion Triunfo alumni. However, he goes straight to Kiev/Kyiv to talk with the unfortunately named Beatriz Pecker, who will be doing the TVE commentary tonight. Beatriz looks no-nonsense and I suspect that Don Carlos is pissed that his suave self has no effect on him.
It's back off to Ecija to talk with the hags' friends & family, because the hags are watching this from Ukraine. Don Carlos barges in on this family moment to ask them the standard beauty pagent questions: "How do you feel? Are you prepared for tonight?" Blah, blah, blah get back to the pretty people from OT.
And he does. For some strange reason, they are all sitting on top of the desk as opposed to behind it. Don Carlos puts his arms around Ramon. I don't want to start a rumour or anything, but the last time a man put his arm around me like that, I was naked with him minutes later. I'm certain these are all decent people, but Don Carlos and the pretty people posse remind of the film Mean Girls with their smugness and preening for the camera.
One of the pretty people, Nuria, gets to perform. Her song "Palabritas" is pretty much a standard flamenco ballad. She, however, does ooze star appeal and I have to wonder why TVE hasn't tried to get her into Eurovision.
Commercials. An advert for Telepizza makes me call Domino's. Evil, just evil. Oh well, I'm going to the gym tomorrow.
Don Carlos welcomes us back from the audience composed of "Eurofans" and Jose Maria who looks a lot like Perry Farrell from Jane's Addiction. I realise now that Don Carlos hasn't changed his outfit since the national final. Creepy. Anyway, this is a segue to introduce the Spanish fan contingent in Ukraine. Beatriz handles this with panache. I like this lady. She's my kind of woman. Oh my god, it's the guys behind Eurovision Madrid. Oye, guapos! Eres mucho sexy!
Previews now. Oddly they include Iceland, who did NOT qualify for the final. Someone is asleep at the booth over at TVE.
Don Carlos introduces Lolita, who looks like she should be presenting the news over on Telemundo instead of pursuing a singing career. She is considerably older than her name implies. I'm not saying she's bad looking, but I'm just saying that a middle aged woman with the name Lolita is very ironic, because Lolita has certainly been around the block several times over. Damn good singer nonetheless. I'd like to see her and Nuria tear up a really good stomper of a song. Hint, hint TVE.
One last toss over to Ecija with Juan Carlos Cerezo. Juan Carlos is no Don Carlos. He's dull, stuffy, and just oozes desperation. He also has daft yuppie hair. I miss my perma-tanned omnisexual Don Carlos.
Good lord, a clip of Maria Isabel. However, when we return to the studio we see Las Supremas. And guess what? They are going to sing Maria Isabel's winning song. It's pretty good, but this is so surreal that words fail me. Phyllis Diller clones singing that they'd rather be dead than simple. There's this whole menopause subtext for this song now.
Commercials. Tierra del Toros? Funny. It reminds me of the cheer in Bring it on.
Don Carlos brings us back to introduce us to Ainhoa, still loopy lo these weeks since the national final. She'll be giving the Spanish results tonight.
A brief film on how hard (with mixed results) NTU and SVT has been working behind the scenes. Did you know that this will be broadcast in Australia? (I'm being sarcastic, because as you know, we'd be screwed in the US if it wasn't for TVE.)
Don Carlos brings Lolita back on to sing us out. She's now in full flamenco form, breast threatening to escape her dress and all. This woman is a pretty impressive performer. Shame about her name, but hey, Madonna is pretty ironic too.
Happy Eurovision Final Day
Some people are dressed up for tonight's ESC. Some people aren't. A vast majority, however probably aren't just waking up an hour beforehand after inadvertingly tearing one last night at The Townhouse & Splash.
The bitch is back.
At least I have Don Carlos to harass this afternoon during the Spanish pre-show. The Supremas are right now on TVE singing a medley of Spanish Eurovision entries, and were it not for the fact that I just pinched myself, I would think that this was all an alcohol-fueled hallucination.
Live (as in my unedited reaction) blogging commences in 3 hours (15:00 New York time).
The bitch is back.
At least I have Don Carlos to harass this afternoon during the Spanish pre-show. The Supremas are right now on TVE singing a medley of Spanish Eurovision entries, and were it not for the fact that I just pinched myself, I would think that this was all an alcohol-fueled hallucination.
Live (as in my unedited reaction) blogging commences in 3 hours (15:00 New York time).
Saturday, May 21, 2005
One last post for the day
Something about Eurovision week apparently makes me all "postal."
Of course there are other things going on in the world:
Of course there are other things going on in the world:
- The US Airways-America West merger is going through according to an email I got from US Airways. What's interesting is that the merged company is going to be known as US Airways! Wouldn't it make sense to just have two subsidiaries of a streamlined parent.
- This whole Saddam Hussein in his underwear debacle is disturbing. Supposedly, the soldier who released the photos thought they would humiliate and deter the insurgents. Now we have protests at the US Embassy in London with people calls for "another September 11th." Real bright move there, Rupert Murdoch.
- A personal tidbit, it's now one week until my surgery and one week until I have to go absolutely cold turkey off of smoking for two weeks. (I'll fess up, I've been sneaking one cigarette every other day recently. Nicorette just doesn't quite do the business.)
But my mind is quite squarely focused on tomorrow's final, especially now that the serviceman from Time Warner has visited, twisted a few knobs, and restored TVE Internacional!
First off, I'm going to lay down which entries are coming into this final with my fangs of bitchiness aimed squarely at them:
- Malta: Hackneyed ballad. Well-performed with a good video, but hackneyed. It's the sort of song that people who have little thrills in life adore.
- Denmark: I still want to know who voted for this. After I get the names and addresses, I will send them the name of a therapist to deal with their voyeuristic tendencies.
- Sweden: Because Stenchmark is Christer's boytoy and ruined a perfect opportunity for Nanne to return to Eurovision. He also cannot say "Mandalay" and the song has got some of the most daftest lyrics ever heard in the 21st Century.
- Macedonia: Unless he becomes bulimic and agile within 24 hours, his luck has run out. I can't wait to find out how closely this edged over vastly superior efforts from other countries. Toshe, I understood. This I cannot get my head around.
- Latvia: Arrogant rentboy hippies. The same comments about Macedonia (just how closely did they get into the final) and Malta (the sort of song that people who have little thrills in life adore) apply here tenfold. According the bloggers, Walters has got a sore throat, which is a) justice and b) funny, especially since the rumour mill has it that one or both of them is gay. (Oh, the irony!) Gay or not, they're just annoying SNAGs (sensitive new-age guys) to me.
By the way, you can download or stream the Qualifier onto your computer for $4.99 ($7.99 for the Qualifier and Final) from the official website. The speed is relatively slow on my computer (22 kbps currently, with 3 hours and 17 minutes left), but it is there.
In closing, I have to share a quote from the BBC's Paddy O'Connell who provided the commentary for the Qualifying Round. This was said while the previews for the finalists were shown on Thursday night:
"You can't Ley without a Rimi Rimi"
Paddy, my bed gladly welcomes you.
Masha & Pasha: Pshaw!
I hate to say this (or rather write this), but I really think NTU really messed up in their presenter search. Masha has got a strong accent and tenuous grasp of grammar. Pasha is so monotone that you have to wonder what type of radio station is he a DJ at.
Then again, I think there haven't been decent presenters since 1998. (I would say 1999, but Yigal was stuck with the dueling bimbos.)
To whatever country wins this year (so I guess to goes to NRK, ERT, and Swiss television):
Please send your A-team. And make sure your A-team has better writers than the teams behind every contest since 2000. Terry Wogan was spot on about the idiocy that was Doctor Death and the Tooth Fairy.
By the way, in honour of Eurovision week in Ukraine, Hikaruland is going all-orange this week.
Then again, I think there haven't been decent presenters since 1998. (I would say 1999, but Yigal was stuck with the dueling bimbos.)
To whatever country wins this year (so I guess to goes to NRK, ERT, and Swiss television):
Please send your A-team. And make sure your A-team has better writers than the teams behind every contest since 2000. Terry Wogan was spot on about the idiocy that was Doctor Death and the Tooth Fairy.
By the way, in honour of Eurovision week in Ukraine, Hikaruland is going all-orange this week.
Friday, May 20, 2005
Eurovision 2005 Qualifying Round: Uncensored
In general I have tried to keep this blog on the PG level in terms of language (not in terms of content). Sometimes, an even comes along where you have to throw your staid self to the wind and let the swears fly. This year's Eurovision qualifier is such an event.
First off, I was hoping to watch this later on tonight on TVE, but for some reason Time Warner is having broadcasting issues with TVE Internacional, and are not showing any picture at all. So to hedge my bets, (plus I had nothing else to do this afternoon) I watched the qualifier online.
From this point onwards it's my live reaction:
First off, I was hoping to watch this later on tonight on TVE, but for some reason Time Warner is having broadcasting issues with TVE Internacional, and are not showing any picture at all. So to hedge my bets, (plus I had nothing else to do this afternoon) I watched the qualifier online.
From this point onwards it's my live reaction:
Ok, I have to wonder where Pasha took his English lessons from. He sounds like every single easy-listening DJ on US radio. Creepy.
Rather cool postcards this year, I must say. Austria starts things off. The lead singer of Global Kryner (again, what is a Kryner?) looks oddly slutty in her traditional Austrian garb. I actually think it wouldn't seem so trashy if she wasn't surrounded by men playing trombones in track suits. Her yodelling partner is quite fit in that Germanic sturdy way. Alpine-Latin fusion may not be stereotypically Austrian, but I must say that this could only be an Austrian or Swiss entry.
It's boats for Lithuania, and my question is how trashy Laura will look tonight? The answer is quite. She's in a white sparkling dress that has been selectively cut for PG-13 sex appeal. Why do I think that "Little by Little" was supposed in Melodifestivalen 2005 but caught sent to Lithuania instead? (The Swedes behind the entry, who also make up "The Lovers" might be a reason.) Eh. So-so.
City shots for Portugal. The bloggers have been saying that Luciana's hair is frightening, and I'm inclined to agree. You also can barely hear them, which I don't know if it's due to sound problems or Luciana's ropey voice. A moment to address the interesting costuming choice they have made. 2B's Club 18-30 look has disappeared in favour of shag carpeting skirts and silvery tops. I think they should've gone back to the indifferent Lusitianian look of the videos. They barely redeem themselves by ending strongly.
Moldova has been reportedly getting very good reviews from those in the hall. The wackiness that was not apparent in the preview video is now quite evident. Zdob si Zdub could easily fit in an Ashley MacIsaac video. Having "granny" in a rocking chair is cute, but not cloying. Damn catchy at the end with the "HEY!" I can forgive the lead singer's unique turn of phrase with "gentlemens" and saying "let's make love" at the end. (Ummm....no.)
Latvia's hippie rentboys next. More street scenes. (Supports my opinion of Walters & Kazha, I say.) Geez, this is dull after the Moldavans frankly blew the roof off. I also can barely hear them, although I am not complaining because the less I hear of these arrogant pricks, the better. At the start of the second verse, they get off their stools and mug for the camera like the fame-whores they are. Jesus, they're signing now. I truly could care less.
Monaco is introduced with the huge horns that Ruslana had last year and lots of landscape and folk dancing. Well, this is a song from the old school. Lise's orange dress is quite beautiful save for a tacky flower right over her stomach. I think the drama of the song is somewhat lost without the orchestra performing with her. Still, I wouldn't mind if there's a brief revival of big dramatic orchestral ballads next year.
Israel's postcard features bicyclists. Clearly NTU is doing the tourist board postcards this year. Anyway, dramatic ballad #2. Shiri looks like Israel's answer to Beyonce Knowles/Mariah Carey as she does possess a certain sexiness (read: bosom) that Glennis and Lise do not have. Her voice is stronger to boot. (You still aren't Rita, lady.) The second verse is now in English and I have to say that the transition is rather smooth, though her voice is clearly stronger when she is singing in Hebrew. I think she'll get through, but I lament the fact that she still has no crazy moment.
Sports and factory workers introduce Belarus. (Ooh, a political dig, eh?) Some audience members are clearly routing for her ("BE-LA-RUS"). Jesus wept, she thinks high of herself. Angelica is dressed literally like a queen, while her figurative queen male backing dancers dash all about. The woman is wearing a TIARA. I mean, seriously. Meanwhile, her voice wobbles like nobody's business. How odd is it that Belarus would go for the gay camp vote? (Note: there are 3 costume changes during the song. In the last one, Angelica is wearing a gold body suit. I'm just saying.)
The Netherlands get a postcard of Kiev's airport (Shout-out to Schipol!) and tulips. My god, we will be hearing those horns every damn postcard. I like them, but geez... Glennis still talks about her dream at the start of it. If you've seen the preview video, then you've seen this performance. Very little is different, which, in a way, is a good thing. The only thing I can notice is that she is vocally stronger, but I have to say that Shiri is the better belter. Again, this song really could use the orchestra because just staring at Glennis gets a teeny bit dull after awhile.
Iceland gets a quick tourist board postcard. (Nothing terribly remarkable.) Wow, they went from a little bit like a Geri Halliwell number to full-on homage. Capri pants galore in this one: Selma is in red, and her all-blonde backing singers/dancers are in gold ones with matching gold bustiers. Selma is wearing something akin to a tiara as well, but it comes across as cute and not arrogant like Angelica. I actually quite like this song now. You go, girl.
The first shot of Belgium's postcard is a lonely tree. Again, the irony is too much! Well, Nuno used to be on my list of the few handsome men at this year's contest. Now...I don't know what work he's had done, but he looks more like Johnny Hallyday now as opposed to the younger version. Oh, he's singing. I honestly did not notice. Ooh, he's having a crazy moment. A very long crazy moment. Well, at least he ended mildly outside of Dullsville.
Trees, wetlands, and happy children swinging. What a way to introduce the talent-free girls of Suntribe. I apologise to all of you out there, but their accents are absolutely hilarious to hear. ("I'm cool like watuuur.") They do indeed get loud, but they also get very annoying to anybody over the age of 12 and who can't stand Radio Disney. By the way, "boring yesterday is gone?" What the fuck is that supposed to mean?
Norway's postcard starts off with a church. Oooh, contrast! Anyway, I'm certain Wig Wam can school Suntribe on how to properly get loud. According to Popbitch, the lead singer has been quite the bed-hopper this year. I think it's due to the fact that he is now beginning to look a little less like a hirsute Marilyn Manson. I have to say, they seem a little more subdued than they were in Oslo. Waving an Orange flag in the home of the Orange Revolution is: a) cheeky? b) over the top? c) cynical ploy?
Romania next and I am prepared for more over-the-top zaniness. It still sounds and looks like Lene-from-Aqua meets Safri Duo. Luminita's breasts threaten to escape at any moment. (Perhaps the postcard's shot of a church dome which looked like a breast was alluding to this?) I'm sorry Romania but a standard dance beat and some sparks do not lift this to spectacle.
Life on the farm introduces Hungary. (Is this all coincidence or intentional, I'm confused.) The bald men's jig gets a good reaction in the arena. The lead singer however, is a little harder to take. She is very nasal. I'm a little bit worried about her nasal passages. Nonetheless, she does scream "diva in heels" with her looks. I think she has whipped all the bald dancing boys into becoming her dance slaves. NOX is one gang I would not want to meet down a dark alley in Budapest.
Sailors and military men for Finland. Yeah, that makes sense. Geir starts singing and I start getting drowsy without the help of Benedryl. I do not want to be overly harsh to a "message song" (even though I doubt their claims), so I will say that they are the best-dressed Finnish entrants since 1998. Geir tries to have his crazy moment, but I think stocky men can't pull that off well. (See Poland 1999 for a prime example.)
Pasha (on WESC-FM) and Masha talk to us from the Greenroom. A word about them: Masha - pretty; Pasha - geeky. They plug the upcoming 50th Anniversary show in Copenhagen and are thankfully gone after that.
Mountains for Macedonia. Mountains and a blonde girl in a daft hat. Martin's cumbia bimbos have now been joined by two men. The two men sway from side to side and I'm seriously beginning to think that there was someone from Puerto Rico or the Dominican Republic involved in the staging of this entry. He really is a big boy. Nothing wrong with stocky men, but gravity just will not allow him to be Sakis Rouvas. That being said, despite the weak singing voice, he goes up in my estimation for the cute half-joking drum solo.
Andorra gets metal workers, smoke stacks, and wetlands. (Huh?) The bloggers have reported the camping up of this song. (The video made Marian look like Stevie Nicks, how much more camp can you get?) Well, putting shirtless male dancers in tribal makeup is a start. Having three backing singers with the worst hair styles you could imagine is an even better touch. Adding Anabel Conde was a good touch, because she damn near blows Marian offstage towards the end. A vast improvement.
Switzerland is introduced by airports and cell phones. Way better vocals than the preview video. Excellent harmonies as well. These girls seriously rock. Even better than Wig Wam. This may be lost on most Europeans, but I have to say that Vanilla Ninja looks like a band full of Lindsay Lohan clones. I wanted them to qualify before, but now I want them to take the lot.
Croatia's postcard features funky music and dogs, but alas, no wolves or people dying alone. The backing singers are nasal, but in a song like this, it works. They are also dressed like the hags from Spain. Actually, I find everybody (and every part of the song) onstage vastly more interesting than Boris. Funny that. The drummer, however, verges frequently into the realm of annoying.
Funky music and people lighting candles make up the Bulgarian postcard. (Pray for the pornstars!) This actually comes across as quite cool and adequate to me. It's far from a spectacle, but Bulgarian TV was very wise to have lots of close-ups of Caffe's lead singer. Now, if he unbuttoned his shirt, they would be a stronger contender. Based on this, it's just a decent performance. His falsetto, however, it's very impressive. Go topless next time, mister.
A nightclub and a late-night diner introduce Ireland. (Explain that connection.) Joe looks less like the innocent public school boy, but he still looks too young. He also looks very funny while snapping his fingers. Donna looks less like Kelly Osbourne and more assured. Actually, this is quite an improvement from the preview...until Joe has his solo. The four women that make up the backing singers do an Irish jig, and it does pale in comparison to Hungary's Dance of the bald men. Still, remember that this is a vast improvement on previous Irish entries.
Trains (but no stop lights) for Slovenia. Omar really is trying to become Robbie Williams. He's even lost some weight since EMA. His voice is also stronger. I sense that he's trying to toady up the crowd during some points. It's very "eh." There really needs to be a guitarist onstage with him. The woman singing soprano looks like a drag queen. Alya would've kicked ass. I'm just saying.
Soccer/football game introduces Denmark, aka the Peeping Tom entry. Geez, Jacob looks and sounds so much like Ronan Keating, it's uncanny. Oh god, they have another group of dancing male backing singers (Dambs) for the Danish entry! Sometimes I wonder if DR just recycles the same entry every year. The Dambs look quite funny while shuffling side-to-side. They still aren't entertaining enough to prevent me from being bored.
Poland closes out the show with a postcard that could've been ripped from any 1960's American film set in Europe. I'm honestly looking for one thing in this entry, and that is shirtless Ivan. Whoa, they threw everything at this. There are Son de Sol-esque dancers, a blonde supermodel playing accordion, Delfin in a fedora, and Ivan in some sort of white-and-rose Dracula outfit. He actually looks like Dracula meets 1970's Elvis. This would fit in quite well in a Fellini film. And Ivan's bare torso? Very twinkish for an adult man.
Masha and Pasha again. Wow, Pasha is monotone. He sounds exactly the same in every damn language he speaks in. Masha, however, is high-pitched and says "gentlemens." They start the recap by clanking some bells without any expression on their face.
Recap: Pretty uneventful, except that I'm surprised they actually found a part of "Amar" that didn't have funny vocal glitches.
- For the battle of the dramatic ballad divas (and yes, I'm including Nuno and Geir in that group): Shiri clearly wins though Nuno has the best dramatics.
- For dueling rockers: Vanilla Ninja kicks Wig Wam's ass
- For dueling jigs: NOX beats out Donna & Joe's dancers
- For best male totty: no contest, the lead singer of Caffe
- For campest number: Angelica beats out Marian, but I tell you, it was close.
Pasha and Masha come back and make jokes about how tall Masha is. It's a horrid joke and I'm struck by the resemblance between Masha and Nicky Hilton and Ashlee Simpson.
Then we get a film of the building of the stage. Are you fucking kidding me? NTU, you cannot be this flippant with your intervals. This is not 1985. Riverdance redefined intervals in 1994.
Masha and Pasha come back to countdown the last ten seconds of voting. Pasha still shows no expression anymore. It's now veering into comedy territory.
Ok, now we're getting a proper interval. A bunch of women in red Son de Sol dresses prance around looking dramatic. It's quite visually stunning, although I'm describing it literally. Some men in red join them. And then they sing! Well, they go "ah ah ahhhh ah ahh ahhh" and then start singing in an unidentifiable language. (I only took a semester of Ukrainian, so I can't tell.) This is followed by people in big leafy headresses on stilts, who dance as best as they can without toppling over. The men in red then leap around, thrust about, and fling a pointy stick in a myriad of directions. Now the music has turned dramatic and folk like. They take their bow.
Masha & Pasha and the unveiling of the envelopes. ("Ten best tonight performance" Masha says.) Before that of course, the preview of the finalists. I now concede that "Angel" is slightly better than I thought. That being said, I still think it's hackneyed. The hags had better pull a better gimmick, now that everybody else is wearing their dresses. Likewise, Gracia pales in comparison to Vanilla Ninja and a watered down Wig Wam, but Natalya still kicks her ass. I still like Ortal, though the reports from the bloggers have me worried about her chances.
Oh lord, Masha & Pasha go on and on and take fucking ages to get to opening the envelopes. You have no idea how badly they stall.
To the final:
- Hungary (#1 in the final running order) Very deserving.
- Romania (#4) Well, they did have a flashy show.
- Norway (#5) Good song, though they are severely watered down from Oslo.
- Moldova (#7) Very deserving.
- Israel (#11) And does she lose her shit in the greenroom!
- Denmark (#13) What the fuck? Who voted for this shit?
- Macedonia (#15) See above.
- Croatia (#18) The Goth vote.
- Switzerland (#22) Finally some sanity!
- Latvia (#23) They were offering blowjobs, I tell you!
All I have to say is who the hell voted for Denmark, Macedonia, and Latvia? Although I wished Andorra had gotten through, I'm really surprised that the Netherlands, Ireland, Iceland, and Poland did not qualify. Especially if Denmark, Macedonia, and Latvia did. In fact, right now I'm declaring Jacob, Martin, and the rentboy hippies squatters for places that rightfully belong to Glennis, Donna & Joe, and Selma.
The newly minted finalists come onstage and it's over. Funky elevator music and all.
God, that result was bizarre.
It's Qualifier Day!
No live recap today for the Qualifying Round as I'm going to wait for TVE Internacional to show it at 9 tonight (which is 3 am CET), so that I can pause it while I recap. (God bless DVR!) However, if you are interested in live feeds you can go to the official site or the BBC's Eurovision website.*
*As much as I love the BBC (and I really honestly do), their live feed of Making Your Mind Up was a little herky-jerky and only 34 Kbps. Don't expect too good a picture, but I'd love to be proven wrong in this.
*As much as I love the BBC (and I really honestly do), their live feed of Making Your Mind Up was a little herky-jerky and only 34 Kbps. Don't expect too good a picture, but I'd love to be proven wrong in this.
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