Yes, in my bid to win the “saddest bastard on the planet” award, I have actually been watching The Eurovision Song Contest.

Don’t judge me. I can feel your judgement.

I don’t care – it kinda reminds me of happy times in the 70s, even if it is a big steaming pile of poo these days.

It brought to mind an old poem I wrote about it. I have a feeling “No-one ever votes for Britain” will be particularly pertinent this year! He he he.

“They’d all be speaking German if it weren’t for us!” is what a naive idiot would say at this point, but luckily I’m a genius so you won’t catch me saying that.  So instead I’ll leave you with my (in retrospect slightly cack) Eurovision poem:

big decison,
slaps and cuddles
meet derision.
Preachers of a
rigged religion.
No-one ever
votes for Britain!
Better call a
black magician.

Hell, it’s not like it used to be …

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