Our night: Upping the glam factor at the Nordic party, drooling over Victor and focusing on the most important

Iceland’s commentator, Gísli Marteinn Baldursson, also known as the Icelandic Fredrik Skavlan, was really happy to finally meet his biggest idols.

So, yesterday was great. We arrived in Tel Aviv, barely escaped the bloke in the ESC information booth at the airport after around 30 minutes of tips on how to gain weight while visiting and jumped into a cab for our apartment, which is ONLY 5 MINUTES walk from our office…we mean EuroClub. Then headed straight for the Nordic party at said office, where Morten our life saver was ready with our press passes so we could spend the next two hours ignoring all the attention-seeking artists around us in order to do our job properly, meaning grabbing as much free booze as possible.

Our Icelandic BFF, Laufey, gave us some pro tips on how to avoid attention-seeking artists , screaming fans and Mossad’s surveillance.

As the clock drew nearer to midnight, we managed to secure a spot right in front of the stage by bulldozing down quite a few underweight fanboys. The stage was set for the Nordic stars to perform their Eurovision entry and if they were lucky, a substandard cover version of a major hit, a newly released new single no one had the slightest interest in, or God forbid, all the above.

Fred was very happy to see us. Poor thing. Clearly he has no clue of what’s in stall for him the upcoming week.

This is what else happened:

Munchable Victor Crone opened the show and we think we might have drooled a little. He had some technical problems which seems to be a manufacturing error on this year’s production of Swedes, so we wonder if the Estonians will ask for a refund. 

– OMG, that drink looks good. Can someone get me off this stage soon?

Next country out was Denmark being as preppy and hoity-toity as always and we kinda liked it. As usual our integrity goes flushing down the drain on the first night.  

Norway made us proud. What a glorious collection of people. We are really happy Fred Buljo taught everyone to joik. We wonder if they know that what they really are joiking, is that this piece of land belongs to the Palestinians and everyone else should go home.

Focusing on the most important during Norway’s performance. Then we had a sausage from the food stall in the back.

Iceland was nothing short of marvelous and at least 10 fanboys fainted immediately from the shock. We saw sir Jon Ola lurking in the background. He was probably just making sure that our camera angles were right for this one.

– And afterwards you are all welcome to the BDSM party at the West Bank

Then Sweden came on, and we noticed our integrity was still there. He spent his 10 minutes with the fans complaining about the lack of soundcheck. Wish he would have left the stage to the Harlem tabernacle choir instead.

Working on replacing that whiny Swede.

We were starting to hope that Finland was not invited to the party or got too drunk on free booze to go on stage, but apparently the organizers saved the worst for last. They started up scaring the bejesus out of us by playing Sandstorm so loudly we think our ears started to bleed. We noticed Darude wearing earplugs and we cursed our budding Alzheimer for forgetting our own earplugs back at the apartment. Maybe their strategy is to ruin everyone’s ears so we all will THINK we like the Finnish song?

Finland brought a couple of people they found on a work seminar in the Finland ferry.

That’s it for now. We started putting our make-up on for the orange carpet this evening. Should be done within a few hours. Also watched France rehearsing earlier today. They are the only ones that have managed to silence Ms Upper on the Wiwiblog-stream, so it must have been real good.

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