When I go insane, please change my name to Moldova

Yesterday I experienced something the likes of which I have never seen. Eurovision. Oh Em Gee. I finally found the absurdity that was missing from my life. And have come to fully realize that Europe is doomed. However, I can't express the amount of joy I got documenting the event, that could only be surpassed by the entrance of the four horsemen of the apocalypse, on Twitter. It's amazing how amusing I find myself.

In all honesty, I should have seen this coming. When I was in England in 2009 I was introduced to Mika, running around like a clown on purpose. England loves their crazy. And apparently so does the rest of Europe. However, I didn't expect them to love that level of pop; old school pop at that. With very few exceptions, the entire continent is still listening to 80's pop and 90's boy bands. Georgia, who rocked it with angry grungy hip hop, single-handedly brought late 90s music to Europe. I never thought a band who reminded me more than a little of the Black Eyed Peas would be a welcome musical experience. France tried to evoke a revolution with military jackets (which were so 2009) and a Les Mis-like score. I think they're overcompensating for WWII. And Italy and Romania unveiled their respective Michael Buble cloning projects.

Oh, and in case you were wondering, Vanilla Ice is now in Russia.

And who wins the crackpipe award? Moldova. I was warned that Moldova has a history of insanity at Eurovision, but I was in no way prepared for the spectacle. I should have looked up their performance from 2010, but that would have ruined the WTF factor. Men in 3-foot gnome hats seemed perfectly normal compared to the chick in a fairy costume with a horn riding a unicycle and the final close up of perfected monocle use. That viewing experience could have only been better with the addition of little green faries, but, alas, I'm all out of absinthe. Once I find out where this country actually is, and where they get their crack stash, I might have to go visit. And I fully expect Moldovan customs to hand out unicycles upon entrance into the country.

But all in all, I learned an important lesson thanks to Eurovision. Never mention a threesome in a Twitter posts. Hello, porn spam. This is totally Ireland's fault. What kind of name is Jedward anyways?

Europe, you're definitely living up to your US reputation and stereotype, while making Justin Bieber look good at the same time. After three hours immersed in European pop culture, I missed Bieber hair. But I can't fault them. That was by far the best three hours on a Saturday afternoon I have ever wasted. Thank you, Eurovision, from the bottom of my heart.