Semi Final 1: “Good evening Europe! Wo ist die Homojugend?!”

– at least that’s what we think Stefan und seine Frauen are saying if the overexcited gays behind them are any indication.

The presenters are Stefaan Raab and two random women (one as eager as an overexcited puppy, another one with ugly silver tassles on her shoulder). Wahey them! “You won’t understand a word of it, because your commentators are going to talk over us, but we’re still here and damned happy about it!” Apparently they’re funny, not that we’d know since we’re all still talking –as are André and Sven- because Die Homojugend in the audience goes ganz wild, ja.
Toll!
While Stefan und seine Frauen explain the televoting (I kid you not, is this “Eurovision for the televoting-impaired” or something?), complete with fireworks and counting down from five, the Sofa discovers our very first problem: our Flemish commentators.

Now we love André. In a way. And after all these years he decided it was time for someone younger and probably more attractive next to him, which we understand. A man has needs: exit Bart Peeters, enter Sven Pichal. Though yes, André, I was also still available, but I understand you didn’t ask because you probably thought I was busy: no hard feelings. Anyway, as I was saying, Sven and André are our first problem. Because their voices and their Eurovision enthusiasm are too alike so we can’t be sure who’s speaking. Very annoying, especially since The Sofa can’t keep their mouths shut either and well… let’s just say André, a woman’s voice * cough like mine cough * would have been a bigger contrast.

Still, we’re willing to give it a shot, and with a Sofa filled with fans, someone who declares himself The Queen of Oneliners and a baby in the audience, on we go to the first entry of the evening.

A postcard of the monorail in Wuppertal (Because who didn’t want to see that!) brings us to Poland. The opening notes are enough to cause the baby to burst into tears “Hungry?” the confused parents wonder, but nope, it’s just the song. Poland is acting out a 70s fitness choreography in the exact same outfit I wore during the C-section last year. It’s very er.. special.

When we get to Norway we start to realise that all the participants AND the presenters probably have the same horrible stylist. Someone shoot this man now. It’s “The Lion King – the musical”. Urgh. I really really don’t get why the rest of Europe is so in love with this. Give me Jesse Matador any time.

André says Albania’s Aurela Gaçe is “the Tina Turner of the Balkan”. Really? She looks like an ugly older version of Rihanna to us, but alright, we’re willing to defer to André’s wisdom. Apparently, he also informs us, this is “metal”. Metal? Metal of the hard rock stuff? With the black and the unwashed hair and the general moshpit-stuff and things like that? This? Why? Because there’s pyros? Cos it sure sounds more Bonnie Tyler than metal to us, but alright, whatever you say, André. (though she’s wearing glitter as well sweetie…Glitter). The pyro –guys are getting so excited we’re worried they might end up burning down the arena. Eak!

Armenia, for reasons of tone deafness and sudden lack of taste, divides the sofa. Some people –the girlfriend- actually say it’s good while others –me- stand firm in their hatred of it. It’s nasal, the hairextensions look pretty heavy (poor girl might fall over any minute) and we’ve seen the trick with the ribbons before … it might have worked for Sertab, but that was due to the hot German blondes crawling at her feet. No hot german blondes here. Though the gay portion of The Sofa mumbles disappointedly about the dancers taking off their bow-ties but not their shirts.

Turkey brings us Spinal Tap! We knew you wouldn’t disappoint, Turkey! They’re getting cocky though, they know they don’t even have to send someone attractive and they’ll still get through (yeah, I know they didn’t, I was shocked!). There’s blatant “Chris Lowe”-patented fake keyboard playing and the erm … very bendy woman tries to distract us from the ugly guys singing. It doesn’t work. Oh god, she turns into a phoenix. Someone kill me now.

The Sofa, especially The Girlfriend, is getting collectively frisky when they see the colourfulness that is Serbia. I can’t say I really get it, though I’m probably still recovering from the “transformation” we just witnessed in the Turkish cage. Yes, it’s all terribly colourful and cheerful. I’m just glad I’m not epileptic and I can’t stop wondering if they’re not too hot in those tights and if they’ve really only just seen Austin Powers and if those guys from “Cipela” were busy.

Russia picked up his backing vocalists at Ikea (promotion: buy two Lack tables and get four Swedes free!) and they’re featuring in a Schwarzkopf (“official sponsor of the Eurovision Song Contest”) ad. “No matter how high you set the wind machine, our hair will not move”). “Oooh they get lightning” The Sofa remarks. Well yes, Dima Bilan ‘s probably controlling the weather, just for them. We might not have a clue what he’s singing, but when The Sofa comes to the consensus that it’s probably “I choose my buttlight” I can’t help but disagree…. Extra points for a very sloppy Sergio-inspired backflip.

When André compares the Swiss singer Anna Rossinelli to “the impressive Maltese singer Chiara” I’m just about ready to chuck stuff at the TV. Can we please just have ONE single Eurovision Song Contest without Chiara, please, thank you?! God, André! Well hello there, it’s “Me and my ukelele!”. Apparently she’s wearing a “dowdy” dress (a Wendy Pepper original?), but we don’t let that distract us and stare at her (gorgeous, long, shapely) legs the whole three minutes. Lovely song. I suppose. Not that I was listening.

And another “dowdy” outfit for Georgia (André’s really getting out the fashion commentary this year – do we detect a subtle shift in the commentator-dynamics?) who –let’s just be honest here- gives us a very big Dana International vibe. Is it Her influence? Was there a group reduction for sex changes (as The Queen of Oneliners naughtily proposes)? We don’t know, but we can’t shake the feeling he might be on to soemthing. Someone call the fashion police (if nothing else, take that stylist into a custody) and did Stereo Mike sign up for Georgia as well?

If Tom Dice’s legacy to Eurovision will be a legion of babyfaced boys with guitars singing sugary sweet pop tunes, I’m going to go kick his arse. At least this one’s not trying any sign language or turning into a phoenix. It’ s something. Finland’s song is the perfect moment for us to fill up on the crisps and booze. Yes, yes, it’s the planet, Gorgeous. But what the hell is he wearing?

Oh Malta, how I love you. I do, I really do. It’s quite something when you find backing dancers who can make even Glen Vella look macho. Well, maybe not macho, that’s probably too strong. “He hides it well”, our Straight Boy proclaims. “Is that even legal in Malta?” someone asks. “What? A keychange?” Straight Boy replies. Oh shut up, all of you, you’re bad, horrible people! His boundless enthusiasm and naïve sweet lyrics are enough for a place in my heart. Even if he doesn’t have a chance in hell of making it out of this semi. Go Glen! “You can love yourself too” he sings, “there you go, an ode to masturbation” QoOL replies.

We find out San Marino, the whole bloody country, has as much inhabitants as this shithole the wife and I live in. “They probably don’t even have a baker!” The sofa proclaims. Nice to see there’s a following for the patented Glennis Grace arm movements, but … they didn’t do old Glennis any favours, so why try? “This is the first ballad” someone remarks. Seriously? It seems like we’ve had hundreds!

And I can’t believe we had to wait till the 13th song for the first chlotheschange! What the hell? Is this turning into a song contest or something? Spare me! Thank you Croatia for this horrible awfulness. There’s an ugly Johnny Depp, the most random clotheschange ever (because yes, sometimes clothes changes are not random – how I long for the return of the Croatian Backing Choir Clothes Change where they reveal polka dotted bikini tops under their shirts) and yet another singer who looks like an ugly drag queen. Would have been hilarious if her dress got caught in her knickers during one of the clothes changes. Alas, that doesn’t happen. Pity.

Iceland goes for the sympathy vote and who can blame them. (They’ve got mine, but don’t tell anyone). It’s nice to see Ricky Gervais find his way to the Eurovision stage (it makes a change from “Free love on the Freelove Highway”) and to see the return of the exaggerated wink to the camera (see also Russia). Apparently I missed a chaste kiss between two of the friends while I blinked. I’m sorry, what?! Unlike Tatu, these guys don’t moan about it, they just do it.

Yay for the return of bad 90s Eurovision dance!! I love it, thank you Hungary! And yes, by now we’re sure that Dana International rounded up all her friends to take part this year. It’s not subtle Dana, we’re on to you! “It’s Cher, but without the plastic surgery” someone remarks. And er… was the little crotch light that one of the dancers seems to be sporting intentional? Russia’s “buttlight” is starting to make sense after all.

“Thank you for the money” Portugal is saying with this song “Now look at what we did with it!”. Give it back, you wankers! How dare you, after your recent amazing efforts (we’re not talking about last year’s Disney Disaster) send this. Not even the Portuguese gays in the audience manage more than a few polite half-hearted waves with their flags. You can tell they’re just itching to switch it for the Maltese flag they left at the hotel.

Lithuania unfortunately does nothing to lift our moods. Urgh. Talk about Disney Ballads. It’s like something out of “Aristocats 6”. “Is someone hiding under that dress or is her ass really that big?”… “yep, it’s really that big”. Aaaaargh! There’s sign language! We thought we’d eradicated it in the early noughties, but no, it sprung back again! Like headlice, once you think you’re rid of them, there they are again in all their nastiness! “The sign language might give them some extra points” Sven remarks. Yes. Because the deaf all love Eurovision (!). Oh boy.

For some reason everyone is falling over themselves loving Azerbaijan. I don’t get it. I’m probably turning into a grumpy old woman, but I really don’t get it. Maybe I will in the final. It seems like Europe just drew open a can of babyfaced little boys in white suits. It’s Glee, with a golden shower at the end. Alright then.

And Stereo Mike got back just in time for the Greek song. “Yo yo yo, for all my brothers in Europe, check it out yo!”. Bad “street dance”, a bad “rapper”, overuse of quotation marks, ethnic Greek music, this must be Eurovision. Sakis is rolling over in his freshly made bed. Not even the clothes change and the pyros (the Germans thought “damn, this is the last song, we’d better use it all up”) saves this. Bring back Sakis, I say.

The interval act is a combination of all the drums that have been used in recent Eurovision years. As you can see there’s been quite a lot of them. Riverdance had a double booking I presume. When the presenters come back they’re still in the same outfits. That’s how we can tell there’s a financial crisis on.
Shocking result, in that Armenia and Turkey (two countries of the “could send a farting sheep and still win the whole thing”-variety) are NOT through to the final. Wow. I predict a riot. Or at least a question in the European Parliament.

In the mean time I’ve had it with these fake Danas. Bring on the real one on Thursday! And Dino! And those annoying Irish twins! Hopefully that will be a tad more entertaining.