Yesterday I kicked a few blogposts around my mind. The ice-cream kiosks were opened and the seagulls were shitting around again. Should I write about it I wondered, but there wasn't much else exciting to scribble about.
Also there was the fact bothering me, that I have knowingly skated around the slippery sweep called the Eurovision Song Contest.
If I would be a normal Finnish citizen I should have gone over and over and over and over on that subject here, whilst wearing a chirpy hat with two overhanging fabric hands carrying national flags.
I thought about it hard. The only thing I wanted to say was the fact that I kind of hoped that the visual image and the ambience of the show would be as hilarious as the moment when a post- soviet wooden doll meets the electric hedge trimmer, mainly because Mr Fox knows well some private parts of one designer designing the face of the upcoming hullaballoo, so there wasn't much to tell you about that.
So, there I sat, staring at the blank computer screen when I heard it again.
Loituma and their fabulous song Ieva's Polka (Classic), which I had thought about introducing you much earlier, but forgot. I tried to find out their space on their My Space and here it is. I listened to it. I moved on. Three hours later I was still listening to it. Eventually the quiet waters of that innocent song sucked me somewhere so deep that if there is a Kuril-Kamchatka Trench in the Internet, I was there.
About Brain of Britain, again - The cricket will be over well before 3pm on Monday, so you may as well listen to this.
18 hours ago