Eurovision 2013. "There was a lot of crotch rubbing and synchronised 'hurry up and get out of the toilet' jiggling"

The white wine haze of Saturday night has now dissipated, so too has the smoke spilling out from the wings in what seemed like every song, the orange glow left behind by the fake tanners has gone and only the annoyingly catchy songs remain in our heads. Eurovision 2013 was the normal gathering of  pop-princesses, has-been rock stars and reality show queens.
This year's contest was held in Malmo, Sweden (I'd never heard of it either). From the looks of the advertising and idents during the show the town seems to be overrun with a plague of butterflies. They said that this was all part of the theming and that they represented Europe being united as one but personally I don't believe them.

The show opened with a choir singing this year's Eurovision anthem written by Benny and Bjorn from Abba and Avicii from those dance songs that all sound the same. Benny and Bjorn seemed to write a nice melody which Avicii then added some electro stuff to and there you have it, a Eurovision anthem. As this was unfolding on stage a bridge was lowered from the ceiling. The Swedes seem to be very proud of this bridge. If it was ever to be hosted in the UK would we have the 'wobbly bridge'. I can just picture 27 countries trying to get across it. Whoever does, wins. The acts of the countries participating then processed across the bridge (unfortunately quite a stable one) with their flags. At this point I was having horrific flashbacks of the Olympic Opening Ceremony and being bored by the time the 'B' section started filing in. I quickly reached for my bottle of wine.

At this point we were introduced to our host for the evening Petra Mede. An amazing woman who managed to pull off a couple of stunning outfits throughout the week. In the first semi-final it was silver tin foil. The second, gold tin-foil and finally at the Grand Final we had this beautiful creation. Pink velour with matching high-heeled boots. Amazing.

Finally we moved on to the songs and the actual point of the evening about half an hour in to the show. You always get that feeling from Eurovision, that it is about 2 hours longer than it needs to be.

Here are a few of my highlights:

UKRAINE

Any country that includes a giant in their staging of their song wins in my book. The Ukraine actually hired a man who was well over 7ft to carry their contestant on stage, she was then placed on a rock (don't ask) in the middle of the stage meaning that good old Zlata was the same height as said giant. I'm not entirely sure why this was done, as it was Eurovision it was probably meant to signify peace and unity to all or something but all in all it just provided another opportunity to laugh.

ROMANIA

This will probably be one of the performances from this year's Eurovision that will stick in the minds of all for a long time to come. It was certainly one that will haunt my nightmares for weeks. Cezar is a male opera singer who has the range of a female opera singer. Team that with an outfit not too dissimilar from Dracula's, ballet dancers crawling under red fabric and a dubstep breakdown and you have the perfect Eurovision formula.

FINLAND

I'm not entirely sure what this song was trying to achieve. The singer Krista has been with her boyfriend for 7 years. I think that the lyric of 'WHERE IS MY PROPOSAL?' was probably the biggest hint he will ever get. Another stroke of lyrical genius by the writer of this song was getting someone who speaks English with a think Finnish accent to shout 'For you' over and over again, resulting in many giggles from my group watching Eurovision, believing she was shouting 'Fuck you'. Maybe that's why she got no votes? We did, however, vote for Finland, turns out we were, indeed, the only ones.

BELGIUM

Belgium wins the award for dance routine of the night. If you've ever wondered what two people, forced on to stage and made to dance whilst really needing a wee looked like, look no further than the Belgain performance. There was a lot of crotch rubbing and synchronised 'hurry up and get out of the toilet' jiggling. In fact, I sort of wish I had voted for them too now.

BELARUS

Belarus never fail to disappoint when it comes to Eurovision. This year's offering involved a scantily clad woman jumping out of a revolving disco ball in a neon blue flapper dress. I can't really remember the actual song. Just a lot of jumping. There she is Alyona from Belarus, showing us the best and, really, only way to exit a giant disco ball the next time we find ourselves in that position.


GERMANY

Germany won the award for 'shit is that [insert has-been pop star name here]' moment of the night. By rights that should have belonged to us with dear old Bonnie Tyler but, hey, they got Cascada to scream at us all and stumble around the stage in what looked like a drag outfit. Essentially this year Germany got one member of Cascada (yes there is more than one), to sing what sounded a lot like last year's winning song. Cheeky move Germany.

GREECE

For the past 3 years I have been desperate for Greece to win Eurovision. Not because they have really good music or anything like that, just because I think it would be hilarious for a country to go  bankrupt because they won the Eurovision Song Contest. This year's entry was insanely brilliant though. Men in kilts, drummers, fireworks and a lyric most people can really get behind. 'ALCOHOL IS FREE'. Amen to that Greece.

It is unfortunate that the best act of the night was one that we couldn't vote for. I'm sure if we could, however, Petra Mede, the host would have won hands down. 'Mamma Mia, Ikea has gone worldwide, good luck assembling all of those parts' the lyrics went. In one song Petra managed to eclipse the Swedish jokes any commentator could have made throughout the night. There were blondes with plaits, Vikings, the singer was dressed as Cruella De Vil if she worked at Ikea. IT WAS INCREDIBLE. Petra Mede is my new favourite person, I'm moving to Sweden.

So there we have it. Rorie's Eurovision party 2013. See you next year for more wind machine, velour outfits and listening to Graham Norton get progressively more drunk.

I Want To Be A Part Of A Rollerblading Gang

If you live in South East London you will know exactly what I am talking about. You'll be sat at traffic lights or waiting to cross the road when all of a sudden a gaggle of youths on roller blades will come streaking past you, some even going backwards on their skates. BACKWARDS, IT TOOK ME LONG ENOUGH TO GO FORWARDS. I even saw one member of a rollerblading gang once carrying a boom box. It was like they had rolled all the way along the road from 1985. The real question is, when did rollerblading become cool again? Was it the introduction of the rollerblading bobbies in Hyde Park. Is this a new way for the gangs to be one step ahead of the 'feds' anyway, I'm going to say it now. I want to be part of this gang. I used to have a pair of roller blades when I was little and it's like riding a bike, surely? I have my eye on a banging pair of Power Rangers roller skates so I will get back to you when I finally become one of the cool kids in the rollerblading gang.

Pet Hate #132. Mullet dresses.

You know the ones, they are longer at the back than they are at the front. I just don't understand them. Do the back of girls leg's get hotter than the front and more ventilation is needed? Is it some sort of cover up of bad, back leg, fake tanning? Maybe it is actually all part of an idea in which all women become superheros and take off using the mullet bit of their dresses? 

Maybe there is a 'back of the leg complex' that I know nothing about. Are people really that worried about how the backs of their legs look? If you are prepared to get the front bit out why not the bit at the back? 

It's not like even anyone good wears them. The mullet dress is favoured by the Essex girls and those I see stumbling out of 'The Venue' club in New Cross at 4am, clutching a box of fried chicken and their ridiculous, studded heels. 

Maybe if the mullet dress looked like an actual mullet, all eighties footballer and scraggly, then I could go for it but essentially it's a dress where they have forgotten to cut the back bit off. 

An Emeli Sande Song I Can Get Behind: The Great Gatsby.

Emeli Sande, I am sorry. I just haven't been feeling it thus far. Yes, your music is good and beautifully written but I haven't had that 'I must listen to this on repeat for a week' feeling with any of your songs so far, UNTIL THIS MOMENT. Yesterday my friends and I were discussing the upcoming Great Gatsby soundtrack, one of them mentioned that they had heard a brilliant 20s jazz version of 'Crazy In Love' by Beyonce. Now if you have read this blog before you will know that I am a big Beyonce fan but I went into listening to this song with an open mind, which wasn't helped I must admit when Sande's name flashed up with the song title on Youtube. Here we go I thought, it's going to be like the Olympic Closing Ceremony all over again. How wrong I was. From the opening muted trumpet notes I was hooked. I thought no one could ever top Beyonce's 2003 booty-busting anthem but this has. Who wouldn't want to Charleston to Crazy in Love? That's my question. Admittedly I think it may have been better with someone else singing, this song has made Sande grow on me but I'm not at full adoration stage yet. It's the roaring twenties band behind it that makes it and if this offering along with Florence's and Del Rey's is anything to go by this soundtrack may be one of the best ever. 

Marathon Day, Part II. (Grandmas in Zara and shouting at Ed Balls)

What an incredible day. Last Sunday saw thousands of people take to the streets of London and slog round (some much quicker than others) the 26.2 mile course. The weather was maybe a little too hot for the runners but for the spectators like me the sunshine was very welcome after the longest Winter in 60 years!

The day began at Grandma's house, the centre of every family occasion. In our family's true style we made sure that the whole street new that something was going on by hanging a banner out of one of the windows.

Next it was up to the start where we dropped Susan off and went to get our position near the blue start. I was on celeb watch and, yet again, failed to get a hug off Sue Barker who I think should be our next Prime Minister. 

After waiting for what seemed like hours, and being interviewed by BBC London as my Mother and I were shouting the loudest and waving the world's biggest (and heaviest) banner, Susan ran past. Mum got a high-5, the whole of the start could hear us screaming at her. Amazing.

I want to add at this point that we have a knack of befriending people when we are out, probably because we just like talking so much. The marathon was no different and this time it was a lovely woman called Cindy. She ran the marathon last year and was also a Gamesmaker. She was a really lovely woman but is it time to hang up the Gamesmaker uniform, I think she probably wears it every day? Anyway, she had this massive horn that she honked at anyone who ran past. So naturally, we got on famously.

After we'd seen Susan run past us at the start we took on our own little marathon, running (and pausing for breath) down the hill to Greenwich town centre. That quarter of a mile certainly took it out of me. 

Greenwich is always one of the best places to watch the marathon, everyone gets involved. This block of flats, just along from the naval college certainly got involved. At this point it was about 10.45 in the morning and the first runners were at mile 6. That didn't stop everyone on that balcony holding glasses of wine though, in fact, I think if they had offered me a glass I wouldn't have turned it down. Again, that quarter of a mile downhill run really took it out of me. 

At this point we joined the rest of our family who were stood on the opposite side of the road. Sara had made about 7 different banners and this was the first, getting everyone rather emotional, until a really old man ran past in a mankini and put everyone off their sandwiches. Susan ran past us again, waving frantically, and looking like she hadn't just run 6 miles. Ed Balls also ran past us at this point to shouts of 'BALLLLLSYYYYY' from me and 'WHERE'S MY MONEY' from my Aunt, Sara. Britain, we did it for you. Consequently Susan asked when she finished why she could sometimes hear booing just up ahead of her. We informed her that she had run the entire marathon just behind Ed Balls. 

 Next stop was Canary Wharf, this is where the real party was. Another Sara banner was unfurled, the sound of drums ricocheted off everything in sight and Grandma set up her picnic chair in the middle of the Canary Wharf shopping centre, wandered in to Zara and nearly fell off a step. Despite all this we managed to see Susan again and she looked even better than she had at mile 6. At this point there were questions as to whether she had got the DLR there. 

Our final stop was opposite Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament, fitting as this is where my Grandad and Susan's Dad worked. Again we were probably the loudest supporters there, arriving just in time to see Susan run past. This time we certainly didn't think she had got the Tube or a cab. Her head was down and we could see that she was just focusing on getting to the end. 

At this point a man asked Sara why she had a number on her banner. He was promptly told that all our family members have a number and not names and that he should 'see 14171, she's a right go-er'. Silly man. 

After meeting Susan at the finish and making her put on her red foil to 'look like she had actually run the thing', thousands of photos were taken but I think this is my favourite. Grandma looks like she is about to punch this man for getting in the way of the photograph. 

So there we have it, a brilliant day for the whole family, a very proud marathon running Aunt and another impersonating the Queen Mother. The O'Leary-Clifford-Biancofiore family everyone!