This is where we start being melodramatic. We mean, we have just experienced a fantastic week of Eurovision extravaganza, we got a winner we could only dream of and a fantastic celebration of it all and suddenly we find ourselves dressed in cotton on our own filthy sofa without a Maltese knight in sight? Not cool at all.
Europe changed a little last night. Who would have known everyone from Italy to Georgia to Sweden could vote for the bearded diva CONCHITA WURST? We believe in humanity again now. Her thank you speech pretty much sums it up:
This night is dedicated to everyone who believes in a future of peace and freedom. You know who you are. We are unity. And we are UNSTOPPABLE!
If there is one person who is unstoppable it is Conchita herself. Wow, we are so proud to be a part of an event that creates such understanding and acceptance. We will cry a little for Eurovision’s achievement every day now, that’s how moved we are. In your unbearded face, Putin!
We were of course disappointed for Malta. We think they did great and hoped they would get better reward for it. Then again, if you spend your time gathering your tensing choir instead of hanging out with your favorite bloggers in Euro Club, that’s what might happen. We also noticed Richard claiming a song about the first world war is based on a personal experience and regret never getting the chance to ask him about time travel. We want Daniel Testa and his fabulous dancers next year, peeps. Elfejno hmistax!
Denmark did such a great job hosting, but their song was all flaggate. As if anybody would like that song any better if the giant flag Basim made in preschool fell down on the end of the entry instead of only falling half down. Poland, however, won the reward for the best multiuse potential. We figure they can solve the next butter crisis in Norway, clean all our Eurovision dresses and send boob tv to Italian viewers in only three minutes. Sounds promising for the future, so we’ll stay in touch.
We have made quite some effort at being better gays than some of our gay friends and have attended all parties possible. Many great people to hang out with there, but no sign of dapper bloke or The handsome family from Malta. Greece quickly became popular with us after dancing with us, though, and so did France. Note to self #1: The song you hate the most will end up as one of your favorites. Makes sense in Eurovision. Note to self #2: Favorites should always be chosen based on who can party.
Now is the time for that serious sit down talk with Greece, though. We did love their trampoline and all, but one also needs a song to score more than a few neighbor friendly points. We can now reveal they actually had a song. Only it didn’t win the national finals for some totally incomprehensible reason. Now, what did we learn from that, greeks? Never keep Kostas Martakis away from an international crowd. It is time for Europe to support the nation of philosophers and stone carved men during this hard, Eurovisional crisis. Please sign and share our petition to get Kostas Martakis for Eurovision 2015. On a trampoline, of course.
We love Azerbaijan for giving us all things free and lovely. Recently we learned that they have 300 bottles of cognac in their hotel rooms because they weren’t allowed to hand it out to the press. Bad move, security people. Not sure if it is actually true or just a last, desperate try to get us into their hotel room, though, but we are starting to know the Azeris pretty well, so probably. Any questions about the funding of it all can be sent directly to Statoil, Fornebu, Norway. Thank you, Norwegian tax payers.
Lastly, we need to talk about the booing.We get that people are mad at Russia for their somewhat troubled political views in issues like facial hair and television scheduling, but was that really necessary? There’s no need to ruin a perfectly bad song performance for those twins. They did that well on their own. From now on we think everyone should ask themselves “What would Conchita do”? And Conchita certainly wouldn’t boo.
She is unstoppable on her own, that lady. Thank God, we mean her, for that.