|See this? I fucking LOVE this.|
I was also under massive duress to perform the role of Twitter commentator that night (for which I thank the lovely Claire), which I'm proud to say I fulfilled with enormous (and shamefully drunken) gusto. I was hashtagging like a motherfucker and unstoppable in my eloquence; I think I averaged one Tweet every 30 seconds or so, usually consisting of words like 'fuck', 'shit', 'what' and 'bitch'. I even had Notepad open at the same time on the laptop, so I could take notes about each contestant and inform you all in exquisitely fine detail about Eurovision in its entirety. So yeah, that kind of went to shit as the evening wore on and the wine ran out:
|Mama tried her best.|
|Come to mama, sweetie.|
The Monk hates his highchair with an absolute passion. As soon as he's slotted into it, he acts like the bastard thing's out to kill him. What makes it even worse is that we paid the best part of a hundred quid for that asshole chair, when it turns out he actually prefers to lord over us from the heights of a twenty quid piece of shit from Ikea, the ones you get in restaurants (this bitch LUNCHES, kids). As a result, myself and the boy have developed an alternative breakfasting style: in short, putting his plate on the pouffe and letting him circle it like a wary pony. It's not a good technique, it's actually a fucking awful technique (have you ever attempted to minimise Cheerio spillage, when the only way your kid allows himself to be fed is if he stops for a few seconds in front of you as he runs around screaming?), but sometimes food actually finds its way into his noisy trap and it's all good 'til lunchtime.
|"Get that chair away from me, woman."|
It's just dawned on me that I've said next to nothing about the quality of Eurovision itself this year (oh yeeeeah, I'm back on it!). In a nutshell, it was Eurovision; same glossy, hyper-camp, Baltic states-favouring shizz as every year, and I hope it never changes. I vaguely remember Sadako from "Ring" winning, and claiming to be Swedish. And now I leave you with my very favourite entry, from Austria - so good, it didn't even get through to the final. People, I give you... Trackshittaz. Yes, Trackshittaz.