Well. I’m incensed by that. I’m not about to go buy Andy Abraham’s album Impossible Dream (2.98 from Amazon - a bargain) but he deserved better than joint last! I mean he put heart, soul, balls, lungs, toe nails and his bin lorry into that. And he was beaten by an ice skating bell end. with a waxed chest (not that I was looking mind) and a song that didn’t really do it for me.

Now the thing that shocked me slightly was that this year you had to qualify for the contest, and My dad (who is Maltese) through a party as the Eurovision is the only chance that Malta usually gets to battle on a (vaguely) level playing field only to find that after buying the nibble, pouring out the drinks and getting the Maltese flag down from the loft, that Malta hadn’t even qualified. Disaster.

On the voting side of things (this is after watching an unfathomably large amount of over made up loves-of-themselves prance about the stage) it was basically a night of camp back rubbing. I got more and more incensed Its a good job we didn’t play the drinking game we were going to play as the tatical voting that went on would have meant that the TV would have exited the house via the window.

Worse still is that I have woken up to the story that Wogers may quit. What! He is the single best thing about the event, and has ended up disgusted at the turn of events there. And if Wogan is upset, I am upset.

The only thing to do is to leave this blog with a vid of andy doing his thing and I guess lets give him gordon Browns job as a form of compensation.

Check out the fat, smiling Lawrence Fishburn bass player!

What is that susurrus that I can hear. What is that sound of distant barbarians? Is there someone at the gate to the city?

No.

Manchester Utd just won the Champions League. I even just heard a firework go off. Which surprises my slightly as I live in West London - not that far from the Kings road and Chelsea’s ground. Now this opens up all sort of jokes about surrey based prawn sandwich eating losers from which I will not get drawn into commenting on. What I will comment on is the fact that I have been unbelievably not bothered about the game. I even went to watch a film with my very sexy lady friend and missed the first half. bothered. I then half watched the second half while cooking dinner (I really stretched my culinary abilities with smash ad vege sausages)

But then the extra time happened, and chelsea hit the post and manchester utd had one cleard off the line and like a junkie who has just been released from prison I’m lapping it like a good un. Then its penalties and I can’t type for chewing away at my nails.

So we’ve got to a cresendo, a team is going to win the Cup in the next few seconds… and its…..

then I realize that I really don’t care cause you maybe the best team in europe but you still released this toss

Oh and you can stop shouting outside my window you red top wearing tit.

Thought we’d have a blog that involved a video Blog

A video of one of the best tunes I’ve unearthed in a while

And then this which I don’t really know what to say about, other than mid life crisis?

Before this blog starts I would like to talk about me in the 3rd person to point out that that handsome OJ is a man. A red blooded, hunter gatherer who could, if he wanted to, bring down a wooly mammoth and feed the tribe…. even though he is a vegetarian freestyler.

So having only just moved in with the less hairy love of my life (my girlfriend that is, not a seal. Although they do make me laught those slippery honking bastards) I’m now of the gang that sleeps in a bed that is no longer my own. this isn’t helped by James the Director (who’s flat i rent) only has a queen sized bed. So that when I heat up to my, allegedly, 119C. At night being near me is like being next to a sweating hog.

Last night was no different, made worse due to the fact I staggered in drunk to the complete happyness of the good lady. Problem is that I woke up this morning hugging a teddy bear and I have no idea how. Is this a sign of my manlyness. A sign that I can sleep with a bear and not worry about it? I’m not sure. the worry I have is that I slept very well last night thank you very much. To the point that I may phone home to my ma and see if I can get her to send my childhood best friend, my bear called Milton. Why he has a Jewish name I have no idea.

Do you sleep with a bear. Are you still a man. Help me!

Right, this is ridiculous. Grand Theft Auto 4, possibly one of the most rabidly anticipated games to be created. EVER. Well how in the name of Uri Geller’s tit have they managed to sell out. Every where. I feel like a smack head who can’t get hold of any brown.

Did Rockstar games not think… “hello, we’ve got a game here that everybody wants, lets only make 10 copies of it.”or are we in a lets keep the addicts waiting a bit longer. Well I’m dying here Mr Rockstar. I need my fix so will you get the children in you processing plant to make a few more copies. i’ll pay whatever the cost.

Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease!