How to have a shit ironic Eurovision party

THE Eurovision Song Contest is on tonight, so you have to have an ironic gathering to celebrate this kitschy event. Here’s how:

Wear national dress

Go to an inordinate amount of trouble to dress up as a Bavarian peasant, Spanish senorita or similar. This will add absolutely nothing to your enjoyment of the evening, and will actually cause you physical pain if you’ve decided to be Dutch and wear clogs.

Forget that the music is f**king shit

Arrive at the party full of excitement about all the fun you’ll have. Then realise that the key part of the evening is listening to several hours of execrable music: mystifying Bosnian folk-disco, an ultra-bland British pop act, and Norwegian soft metal. At least one act will appear to be taking the piss, and will probably win.

Discuss the confusing rules of Eurovision at length

Make sure to have a long and boring conversation about why Israel can enter when it’s not in Europe. Some clever dick – perhaps you – is bound to patronisingly explain it’s because the contest was originally set up by various TV companies not restricted to Europe and has f**k all to do with heartwarming cross-border friendship.

Make terrible food

Make horribly complicated arrangements for each guest to bring the food of a different nation. This will lead to one lucky bastard just bringing an Asda pizza, while someone else will have spent hours trying to cook the Albanian national dish tave kosi and made it totally inedible.

Get embarrassingly drunk out of boredom

After two hours of glumly staring at the TV while the Maltese Celine Dion shrieks out a forgettable power ballad, you will probably be hitting the booze quite seriously. Various regrettable behaviour is now an option, from throwing up in the kitchen to attempting to dance and falling into the telly.

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Mensa and four other organisations only pricks join

JOINING organisations can be a fun, sociable thing to do. Unless you choose one of these, which instantly mark you out as a bellend:

The Magic Circle

The Magic Circle is an organisation for people who spent a large proportion of their teenage years locked in their rooms practicing something other than masturbating, and yet are still massive wankers. You never grew out of your tragic hobby and instead felt compelled to join magic’s most exclusive club, but at least you’re all safely together in one place.


This is essentially a global club determined to enrol the kind of people who no one wants to be stuck talking to at a house party. Yes, you might be good at maths and have an IQ above the 98th percentile, but it hasn’t rendered you intelligent enough to not be an absolute twat who bores on about it.

Neighbourhood Watch

Basically an easy way to justify spying or perving on your neighbours. Is the young woman across the street freaked out because you’ve been looking at her bedroom windows through binoculars? Tell her you’re simply making sure the street is secure. Don’t trust the postman because he has a foreign accent? Ring the police and have him sacked. You can’t be too careful.

The Masons

There is nothing sadder than a group of male middle-managers gathering two evenings a month in a creepy lodge to wear leather aprons, practice secret handshakes and generally pretend they’re in a Dan Brown novel. However, people don’t tell you that as, for such a silly organisation, you still have a disturbing amount of influence.

The Tories

If you’d like to spend time in the company of people who enjoy talking about how much better the country used to be using the language of a barely disguised racist dog-whistle, then you should ring your nan. She’d appreciate the call, and you don’t have to pay a membership fee.