Douze points!

Last night's Eurovision Song Contest was fun. Silly fun, yes, but in this economic climate, we should take all the chances we can get.

Ok, I was disappointed that our own Sinead Mulvey et al. didn't make it to the final. It was a pretty decent pop song and they gave it all they had in the semi-final. And I was also disappointed that the Serbian bloke who looked like Einstein after an unfortunate incident with a split atom in a paint factory didn't make it through either.

But Cirque de Soleil were bloody excellent and the interval act featuring giant suspended swimming pools was just extrordinary. As was the almost 100% accurate Ronan Keating clone who represented Denmark. I always suspected that there was a degree of genetic engineering going on in boy-band circles, and this only serves to confirm my suspicions.

Alexander Rybak's song Fairytale, the overall winner and most popular Eurovision victor ever, did nothing for me I'm afraid. I thought the Swedish mezzo-soprano was superb, as was the Maltese girl, Chiara. Even in spite of my aversion to all things Andrew Lloyd-Webber, I also thought the UK entry was one of the best.

But just to backtrack to Alexander Rybak for a moment...

I mean...

Phwooarrr.....

Jaysus, I'm going to print this picture off and stick it on my desk. It'll be a nice distraction from the forms on a bad day. Yum yum yum yum yum.

Oslo next year I think!!