32.5 drinks and counting: Eurovision wrap 2006 (part 2)

Monday 22 May 2006

The second half of Eurovision gets hazy, before petering out completely into drunken ranting. I tried taking notes from the observations of the assembled home audience but the next day all I could decipher from them was a poorly-spelled mash note to Clare Grogan.
Part one of this wrap is available, along with superior analyses here and here. The following has been edited for coherence and my diminished attention span.
Former Yugoslav Republic of Bosnia and Former Yugoslav Republic of Herzegovina
“They just told me to stay calm and to enjoy myself.”
At first their miming looked too serious to count as Wandering Minstrels, but then they dropped thier instruments while the music kept playing, so we all drank anyway. It was slow, they wore white. (3 – 3WM)
Former Yugoslav Republic of Lithuania
“We’re not really into competing with other countries.”
They’re making a mockery of Eurovision! And we don’t care! Except the Greek audience, who turn out to be a bunch of bad sports all night. I’m sure these guys have a regular gig on the Lithuanian equivalent of The Footy Show. Unlike Bosnia, at least they give us genuinely phony violin playing, and yell at people through a gold-plated megaphone. Somewhere in Manchester Mark E. Smith is trashing a pub. (3 – WC, WM, TT)
Former Yugoslav Republic of the United Kingdom
“The rehearsal was fabulous. It was better than sex.”
This is what happens when someone tries too hard to please everyone, when he’s already too pleased with himself. British rapping comes across as slightly less natural than Moldovan reggae. The slappers in schoogirl uniforms manage the impossible, and make themselves so sexually unappealing they may well be real schoolgirls. Our home audience thinks its a wholesale ripoff of some Black Eyed Peas hit. Serves them right. (1 – WM)
Former Yugoslav Republic of Greece
“It’s almost masochistic.”
The Great Greek Diva don’t need no steenking backup singers or dancers getting up in her grill when it’s her time to shine*, just a wind machine to help her through her long, dark, total eclipse of the heart. Our home audience judged the microphone more of a prop than a necessary sound amplifier and drank accordingly. (2 – DKC, WM)
Former Yugoslav Republic of Finland
“The Finnish people liked us – or 42% of them did.”
Fat Orcs in Party Hats! I want to see these guys duetting with Alf Poier. I love these guys, if only because I bet a round a drinks on them winning. (0)
Former Yugoslav Republic of Ukraine
“I just want to make the world so, so happy… I’m a singer for the Ukrainian military orchestra.”
Ruslana must have been preoccupied with the Joint Committee on the Consolidation of Wireless Telegraphy, so they sent another babe, who looks like Pia Zadora and is about as talented. I must be getting old because she’s doing it for me, although I can’t help thinking she’s about to be tackled by Leslie Nielsen at any moment. I bet they were surprised when that dress they ordered for her over the internet turned out to be a nightie! Inspired Eurovision choreography: cossacks skipping rope – couldn’t they get their sabres onto the plane? (1 – SR)

Former Yugoslav Republic of France
“What does that mean? That Europeans have no taste?”
Phew! The bathroom break song came a little late this year. It’s slow, it’s boring, it’s sung flat, it’s sung in French. And then it’s over. White frock. (0)

Former Yugoslav Republic of Croatia
“Why did I choose to sing about my shoes?”
Because you’re a slightly drug-fucked man who dared to live his dream of being surgically transformed into Fran Drescher, and almost made it. Every year we get one bunch of people running around and yelling like they’re having way too much fun on stage. We don’t want to vote for you, we just want to score your evil 160 proof rakija you’ve obviously been sucking on backstage. (2 – BF, SR)
Former Yugoslav Republic of Ireland
“He wore this white suit like John Travolta but was Irish.”
An unctuous offcut of Chris de Burgh croons “Every Song is a Cry for Love”, which will please TISM fans. Even the backing singers can’t stomach this and, suddenly remembering they forgot to go for a piss before coming onstage, wobble uncomfortably from side to side. Some drunk bastard in the home audience suggests the kneeling Westlife-y git looks like me, and is swiftly ejected from the premises. I was going to give this a World Cup, but everyone’s saying Ireland really does want to win again. Pity they forgot how. (0)
Former Yugoslav Republic of Sweden
“I’ve become more straight.”
In the blue corner, Greece’s rival in the Battle of the Wind Machines. I was going to call her a MILF until her lower jaw started wobbling in an extremely offputting manner, and it just didn’t stop. (1 – BF)
Former Yugoslav Republic of Turkey
“Do I feel like a superstar? A bit too much at the moment!”
A heroically proportioned blonde, more man than the four metrosexuals cavorting around her put together. Scary, but after this many drinks, strangely compelling. The Greeks, mindful of the pan-European attention, boo. I honestly didn’t think the TaTu rule would get so much use in a single night. (2 – E?, TT)
Former Yugoslav Republic of Armenia
“I’ve been most influenced by my time at the Armenian State Music Theatre. It’s one of the best music schools, not just in Armenia, but internationally.”
Finally, someone blatantly rips off last year’s winner with all the straps/ropes nonsense. By this stage noone’s paying much attention and waiting for… (1 – CR)
More drinks! Three shots at once, as the male host has changed into a hideous gold lamé suit and his female companion has changed frocks so quickly she forgets her breast tape and spends the next five minutes standing as still as possible while glancing down anxiously as she almost falls out. Nana Mouskouri is called on to start the voting, a task it has previously taken a pair of Olympic athletes and the Klitschko brothers to accomplish, so unsurprisingly she makes a hash of it and trainwreck television reigns for a minute or so. What happens next is…
Bitter disappointment! They’ve shortened the voting process, so it’s merely agonising instead of excruciating. It all moves too fast for us to follow. Most importantly, you never get to savour just how pissweak are the votes coming in for the U.K. At least the hostess has changed into her fourth frock for the night (drink!) and looks much happier now that her boobs won’t pop out without warning. Dear Clare, I saw you on telly again the other night and [edit]

* huh?

  1. it's true that french song wasn't good but why would you want them to sing in english? i think everyone should sing in there own language

  2. I don't want the French to sing in English, I and most of Europe want them to stop bitching about how everyone else sings in English.

    If everyone sings in their own language, do the Swiss have to sing in four languages at once?

  3. Was that in French was it? I thought she was just moaning in gibberish for 2.59.

  4. No, no, that was those Breton nationalists who sang in gibberish a few years ago. Sort of like Sigur Ros, only with a burning hatred of all of France south and east of the Loire.