Good weekend where I got the suit fitted for the wedding, I think shiny lime green with a pink shirt topped off with a zebra skin top hat and yellow pimp cane will really help me stand out.
Actually its a little less flouncy than that and I ruled out top hats as a) I look a twit in them b) I don't need any help in being tall.
So I got us all fitted up in about 15 mins and went for a pint in my old local. It was weird walking into a pub I haven't visited in about seven years and nothing had changed. The decor and smelly old men drinking were exactly the same. Only the barmaid had changed, same girl but now looking so much older. Is that how I look to people I haven't seen in years? that tired aged look around the eyes?
From there it went rapidly downhill to watching Eurovision on the couch supplied by good beer and cheap pizza.
Eurovision was kind of odd for me it was my first time watching the entire process from bottom clenchingly bad songs through the awkward stunted presenters attempts at humour and obscure and tortuous voting amalgamation process right out to the tearful acceptance speech and yet another performance of the 'winner'.
What surprises me the most though was not the crap entry from the Ukraine or Belarus but the useless UK entry.
We have a music scene which has brought up some of the greatest music of all time through the Beatles and stones right through to Lilly Allen and (Who else can I mention to sound contemporary?) Bloc Party.
Why is the best music we can produce for this contest be Scooch?
There was a rumour that Morrissey would enter this year and it set my little smiths-loving heart ablaze.
Morrissey genuinely couldn't give two stuffs what people think/thought of him and having that larcymose cynical knowing humour amongst the crap pop and soulless dirges of the other 23 finalists would have been a breath of fresh air.
And yes I am well aware that it wouldn't matter who was playing for the UK we'd still get shafted due to our involvement in Iraq or some other current spurious reason.
But for Morrissey you see it would be the latest in a long line of disappointments and heartbreaks. He'd smile, shuffle slowly off and write the most amazing song about how it felt.
No comments:
Post a Comment