Satuday 8th March 2008. 19:42 GMT

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Meanwhile, back at Euromoments HQ...

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This is my moment. This is my Euromoment. With you. Not so long ago, I hit the wall. Eurofriends, you know what I mean. That moment when you've seen so many MP3s and YouTube clips, quarter-finals, semi-finals, second chances and wildcards that you can't see how you're going to make it through, but you know that there's no way back. So, I took myself across the pond to the place that gave birth to 1970's Eurovision victor - she who is known as Dana Domestic - to seek solace and inspiration. I made it. The breakthrough happened when I stood atop the Cliffs of Moher at sunset, with the ice cold coastal winds practically whipping the skin off my face. My first thought was not concern for my complexion, or my safety at the top of a 200m sheer drop in gale force gusts. All I could think of was how spectacular it would be to have a gold lamé outfit with a 5x10m blue satin cape and a set of 5 backing dancers with flags. I then experienced what I can only describe as an epip...
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the phantom of the opera

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Hello chickies New year new euro! The optimism ends here for me, however, as I have grave concerns that the powers that be across europe (aka drunk televoters and desperate belarussian housewives) may not be taking their responsibilities seriously enough. February has scarcely begun and already we have a clutch of entries for what will be the largest contest in its history. Unfortunately it been downhill since Albania, and Albania was pretty much at sea level to begin with. Those who feared 42 sour-faced lesbian power ballads should have been more careful what they wished for, as even Eastern Europe seems to be taking the piss this year. Much has been made of Ireland's prospective entry from a stuffed turkey named Dustin, with all the predictable cries of "Ireland sends a turkey, what's new???" etc etc. Yet looking at the field so far, Dustin may well be wondering if he isn't risking his artistic integrity. Here are my meanderings on a few of the recent of...
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they can't stop the spring.... can they?

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According to my nice black marks and spencers diary, tonight is the eve of the vernal equinox on which day, according to said source, spring begins. Sprang! Could have fooled me, for whoever "they" are, they seem to be making a pretty damn good job of it so far. HOWEVER, the line "the archipelagic icicles have melted like the cage" has provoked debate in come circles (ok, one circle... well, actually triangle) and i was delighted that my favourite communist newsletter the guardian G2 yesterday enlightened me. The line is a reference to "The Gulag Archipelago", the seminial work by nobel prize winner Alexandr Solzhenitsyn who was sentenced to eight years in the gulag or Soviet labour prison camp after he critised Stalin in private correspondence with a friend. Of course! Like, duuuh. Meanwhile, the United Kingdom's entry provides a comparable showcase for lyrical subtlety: " Care for some salted nuts sir ?" No i damn well wouldn't, you rep...
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