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Not Norway or anywhere else. After
spending a pleasant sunny day wandering around at the local horse
trials, barbecuing various bits of dead animals, eating Culross ice
cream and quaffing wine and cider it soon was time to capsize onto
the (now bat free) couch and endure the maschionistic pleasures of
Eurovision. Set in the decidedly dodgy location of Azerbaijan it's
hard to say anything new about this multicoloured spectacle of
tasteless torture - my stomach started to turn and my attention span
fell drastically short of the mark. Pretty girls, pretty boys,
grannies and the Hump swanning about, cartwheeling, caterwauling,
cooking biscuits and occasionally singing. The final result was of
no real interest to me so I accepted defeat to the bigger Maytime
fatigue and inspired over eating at about eleven, a while before the
final points haul was calculated. It turned out that within all the
political, back slapping, Euro unfriendly and block voting strategies
only four nations voted for this year's Olympic Host Country and the
cradle of modern democracy, black pudding and pop music, the UK. Our
new allies turn out to be Estonia, Ireland, Latvia and what was
possibly a grudged single point from the good folks in modern
Belgium. A diplomatic eye opener, an expected face slapping and the
basis for a new foreign policy or two? At least we're not Norway.
Torro Rosso. Today full Euro envy
faltered a little more when the Grand Prix fizzled out in Monaco and
the rain began, meanwhile the sun was frazzling us here. The result
made me think, “why don't Red Bull just make sports cars instead of
expensive sugary juice?”
WTF. Scottish TV Channel Alba is
resolutely broadcasting the Junior Cup final between Auchinleck
Talbot and Shotts Bon Accord from the stadium in Livingstone. The
commentary is in Gaelic – a very popular language here in the
central belt. Shotts won 2 – 1.
In other news. Seen on a beach in Fife
today, three roe deer, running east then (when they saw me and I
tried to take their photo) running west.
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