Le weekend

It has been a very eventful weekend and I am faced with an unexpected problem: too much to write about! Mon dieu!

1st of all, a phenomenon the like of which I have never exerienced before: Eurovision Song Contest. I cannot believe that performances of such majestic scale have not made it across the pond to the States, and for this I am sorely sorry. I think my life would have been sooo much richer had this been a part of it in years past. That said, I can imagine my bank account being seriously depleted due to the amount of stiff drinks I would need to get through the show.

My friends, parce que I love you, here is an example of this regal, dizzying mess: I give you Belgium!





I had been rather placidly watching the semi-final on Thursday or whenever it was, and then Belgium came on the scene and I literally laughed so hard that I cried. And get this: they are called The KRAZY MESS GROOVERS. No, I am not kidding. Krazy Mess indeed. Somebody please, give these people a job at RadioShack selling spools of wire, or steady labor in a glass-blowing factory; anything that does not involve singing or music of any kind. Make them PRESIDENT, or something. Who cares, just make that guy with the fucking guitar keyboard stop. That said, I was very sad when they did not make it to the finals.

Actually, the whole Eurovision experience was a a very heady brew. I found myself captivated by the complete and utter inanity of most of the performances (please see this). It's Latvia, people. If you are ready for some top-hat-sporting-big-tune-belting guys, do it.

But long story short: Serbia won. Their entry was basically the same as the Latvian team, but instead of 1 million hat-wearing dudes, it was KD Lang x 10. Seriously. I can see the headline now: CROWD PLEASERS: BALKAN LESBIANS MAKE GOOD! These ladies were hot to trot, folks. Like Seabiscuit at the derby.

For more amazing Eurovision info, go here. And while you are there please PLEASE bust the Finnish hosts Jaana and Mikko. Mikko is basically the Finnish Ryan Seacrest and makes me want to create laws requiring sterilisation for certain members of the Finnish tv community. I'm just saying.

And it happens every year! There's room on the couch if anyone wants to come and visit. Just bring gin. Lots and lots of gin.

Soooo, the need for heavy drinking brings me to the other main feature of the weekend: Tobey Maguire as The Music Man in Spiderman 3 aka Don't Cry for Me, Peter Parker. Seriously, this made me cringe. Being forced to watch Tobes pop his collar, twitch his ass and say "Dig on THIS" and basically bust a Fosse down the street was enough to make me reach for the ether. However, I decided against euthanasia and made it through the 5 remaining hours of the film... but it left a bad taste in my mouth.

I just pray that whoever wrote that scene in was later attacked and mauled by lions.

I leave you with this photo of some fans at the Eurovision Song Contest finals. I am SO glad I wasn't there: how embarrassing would it have been for me to show up in my fave outfit and find that those two were snaffling my style! Kisses, dahlings!