So, yesterday was fabulous. We started off spending a little fortune on making a Ukrainian woman match our nails to our dresses only to remember that we have seven days of new dresses left before we leave. Next year, let’s hope a cheap country hosts. Go Albania!
Anyways. We managed to pass the demonstration for a free Palestine and got into the press area, only to discover Netherlands had occupied the Norwegian territory:
We and the entire Norwegian press plus quite a few of the Eurovision crew tried to tell them this isn’t ok, even in Israel, but they kept clinging to their colonial power and we remembered where that has gotten them before, so we moved on to occupy Russia’s territory instead. The Russians are usually quite welcoming to that sort of stuff and luckily these guys had our back:
Then we met our biggest fan Joci, who kindly asked to take our photo. We happily accepted and confirmed we still think he is the hottest guy around. He thanked us by kissing Guri’s hand and she almost fainted. She won’t wash her hands for a week now, but those sanitary problems will totally be worth it. Sorry, mum.
Iceland also showed up, and they sent their most outspoken member to talk to the press. This picture perfectly illustrates the incredible openness and freedom of speech of this country we are in:
We also spotted DishyGuy from last year, who is still the Czech head of press. We cannot for the sake of a good picture understand why he sends those three boring lads to the photographers while hiding behind the Israeli security guy. It surely can’t be because two middle-aged Norwegians are stalking him:
Also, Verka Serduchka showed up and tried to run past the Russian press as fast as she could, but they were ruthless:
Then the Norwegians showed up, which was very handy for us, as we were a bit tired of swinging that sami flag and Fred gladly agreed to take care of it for us. Poor thing. He didn’t know this is our number one trick to have a reason to bang on the door to his hotel room later.
Then started the Russian inquisition. Filip Kirkorov was into the selfie mood, trying to take a picture with what he thought was the Dutch guy. Luckily someone called him and told him it was his own manicurist.
We were at that time occupying the Estonian territory. A fellow Estonian journalist asked Sergey when he screamed last, and he said it was when he was with his son. Who knew we had so much in common with that charmer?
Then we met Mahmood, and he told us now is the time to go to EuroClub. We obeyed, as our pose had moved into vodka mode anyway:
During Sergey’s performance of Scream, we had a Russian fan right behind us screaming non-stop into our ears and we remembered why we decided to bring earplugs to Euroclub which we of course totally forgot. But we got a better understanding of why Putin wants to limit the Russians’ freedom of speech, at least.
Captain Sherhat took us on a ride to the pleasure dome. He also pointed out where we could grab a couple of hotdogs from the food stall in the back at Euroclub:
We were super psyched to see that Albanian Jonida Maliqi had draped herself in the Sami flag. Maybe her MyHeritage test proved that she is 3 % Sami?
Goldenboy closed the show and he blinked at us from the stage. Swear to God, it was at us! Afterwards he showed us Tel Aviv. And then we remembered his age. Gotta go, bye, bye!
