Monday, May 22, 2006

It behoves me to point out that I did not watch, nor do I ever watch, the Eurovision Song Contest. This seems to set me aside from my virtual friends who watch it so that they can write articles saying how crap it was. I say this only as information, not in a judgemental way, for the sake of those dear friends who are wondering why I am not sharing my perspective and wisdom on their latest works. I do not watch Big Brother or any programme with “Celebrity” in the title, with the exception of the recent edition of Who Wants to be a Millionaire. Thanks to that nice Mr Murdoch and his Sky Box, I can whiz through the whole programme in 10 minutes, by skipping the ads, the dumb questions and inane chatter of Mr Tarrant. I suppose that I should not be proud of watching Jerry Hall demonstrating how completely thick she was. I did not expect her to know the name of the king who was reigning in the time of Samuel Pepys, anymore than I would know the names of the presidents during the lifetime of Edgar Allan Poe. I might have heard of Mr Poe however, and been able to pronounce his name having heard it several times within the last five minutes. For those of you wishing to read the works of Mr Pips, or read Peppy’s Diary, then obviously they are popular in Texas, or perhaps Richmond. I will not be watching much more tripe like that, but instead improving my mind by reading the works of the great American authors such as Mark Twine, John Stoneback and Ernest Hummingbird.

The most amusing interlude was her calling Bill Wyman for help with a question. Yes, really. And then reading the question in her Texan drawl so slowly that over half the time was used up. Poor old Bill, who may have been disorientated by having his viewing of a repeat of Blue Peter interrupted, then realised that he needed to hear the question again.

The Rolling Stones are the greatest rock and roll band in history. Their members include someone who falls out of trees and a camp caricature of a singer, who has sold out so far as to accept a knighthood, and chose to spend his middle age with one of the planet’s most stupid women. The exploits of the ex-bass guitarist are too well known to bear my repeating them here, but he is obviously in need of extra Sanatogen in the “Let it Bleed” Nursing Home in Suffolk. Yes folks, welcome to Kaliyuga.

Once again I am glad that I rejected the advances of Jerry Hall all those years ago. It may have taken up too much valuable time for us to realise how incompatible we were.

19 comments:

Richard said...

I don't think Mick ever sold out. He wanted that right from the start.

Carmenzta said...

I would sell out also if I was offered a knighthood. For real.

tom909 said...

Mick left me for his Knighthood. Do you know that the one and only reason I would like to be famous is so when the queen offered me a knighthood I could tell her to shove it up her arse.

Mark Gamon said...

What's a knighthood?

Vicus - you must have a superb memory. You seem to be able to recall every detail of Jerry Hall's appearance on whatever it was. By contrast, I can remember nothing of the Eurovision. I have pressed the biological delete button, with a little guidance from a gin and tonic. This is a necessary process all us seasoned Eurovision watchers have to go through: if we could remember how crap it was last time, we probably wouldn't ever watch it again.

Fxgwut. The kind of person who watches the Eurovision.

zoe said...

i watch LOST, Desperate Housewives (on DVD), HIGNFY and Eastenders. Class.

I loved the Twat's write-up of the Eurovision Song Contest, though, and somebody said he suffered from xenophobia. Ha!

Vicus Scurra said...

I will have to start watching it.
If it makes Zoe say nice things about her poor, abused boyfriend, then it must be therapeutic.
Tom - get a dukedom - much more difficult to get up the royal arse.
Mark - I have no idea about her hairstyle or clothes, and now, only 24 hours later, I can remember none of the other questions. At least I can pronounce Pepys, though. Thick tart.

Carmenzta said...

FxgWHUT? a person who has no clue what the conversation regarding the Eurovision Song Thing is about.

Vicus Scurra said...

Carmenzta. Knowing what the conversation is about is not a criterion for joining in. You've been here before and should understand that.

qknxei - 1984 entry from Albania

kat said...

She's from Texas, like another well-known 'Mercan, so she only has to know how to eff anything for a buck while everyone watches. It's in the Bill or Rights. You have to admit, she's played the one card she's been dealt very well. Other than that, there's a lot of Texas villages missing their idiots and they do have a tendency to migrate. She and Mick have already reproduced, so it's too late to do anything about it, unfortunately.

Sharon J said...

You have SKY? That's just too bad.

Kyahgirl said...

I don't know what Eurovision is about and am grateful.
On one blog I was begged to pray for Ireland to lose, and on another I was subjected to a clip of a spastic woman from Iceland singing.

I'm glad its over so we can get back to more important topics like....um....Vicus? Help me out here.

Mike said...

What's "reality TV"?

Vicus Scurra said...

Sharon, yes I sold out to the dark Lord some 4 years ago, and have bearly moved from the couch since. I can fill my days with channels dedicated to people selling me nasal hair clipper de-icers and listen to footballers talk bollocks from 37 different camera angles. I admire your fortitude in not being sucked in.
And, colonial cousins, please make a bit of an effort. Living in cultural backwaters does not excuse you from knowing the biography of Keith Chegwin.

bmenqbuk - manual about the maintenance of big mammaries.

Richard said...

See - if you can sell out, you can't blame Mick for doing it. Everybody has their price.

eivok - new egg shaped satellite receiver marketed by Carphone Warehouse

Mike said...

Actually I think the scurge/scirge/skurj of reality TV has emenated (like a foul wind) from NZ - all those "do up your garden, "fiddle with ya house" as well as "celebrities on an island" were invented by one TV producer named Julie Christie in that city called Auckland.

Just one more reason to have a slight annoyance JAFA's

mvzchq: Baggage code for provincial airport in Moldovia

kat said...

OK, Vicus, you've got to warn me before you do something like that. "Naked Jungle" and the photos thereof outdo anything we have in the States, even Jerry Hall with her clothes on, who is close to the most moronic creature that draws breath. Sounds to me like she's perfect for that group involved with leashes for courting inducements in Darlington.

aceuty-how Jerry would pronounce intelligence if she had any idea what it meant.

Vicus Scurra said...

Kat - I did nothing. If there are pictures out there of Mr Chegwin naked, then I am not responsible.
(For the sake of clarity, I have been described as responsible).
My only recollection of him is as a well loved and sober children's tv presenter.
If you go wandering off on your own with no permission from me, you will probably land yourself in trouble. You may even finish up married to Mick Jagger.
Stay here, where it is safe would be my advice.

Mark Gamon said...

I should just point out, for the benefit of Vicus's Antipodean and North American colonial readers, that the US will shortly be staging its own 'version' of the legend that is the Eurovision Song Contest.

They'll know what it's all about then, the poor deluded suckers...

Lapudzj. An Eastern European competitor in the Eurovsion Song Contest. Usually garbed in furs and a loin cloth, and surrounded by heavily-oiled dancers.

Carmenzta said...

Wait! I get it, is Eurovision like the singing contest in "The Sound of Music" where fat women in blond braids compete against the Captain's seven darling kids? I can't wait for that to happen in Amerca!

bmenqbuk-OO: French for "Thank you very much for not staring at my big mammaries while you talk to me." Or something like that.