Meanwhile, in a discotheque in Bosnia-Herzegovina...

It's been a busy old week, dear reader. Despite having the old "post-holiday blues" after a splendid week in Spain, and despite the shit weather, I haven't really stopped! Rearranging the garden, a bit of shopping here, a bit of sorting and tidying the house there, and there's still loads to do - but hey ho! We do indeed have "the party of the year", the "Gay World Cup", our annual Eurovision Song Contest party tomorrow - and a houseful of guests in ridiculous costumes are, as ever, expected.

So, to get the celebrations going, here's an old stalwart - the 2004 entry from Bosnia-Herzegovina, in all its campery.

Thank Disco It's Eurovision Eve Friday!

DEEN - In The Disco

Have a good weekend, peeps, whether you're planning to watch the Euro-madness of the world's longest-running and biggest music event or not...

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FOOTNOTE:

It seems the Google gnomes are still being bastards, as yesterday's post took seven hours to appear in the Reading List. I think we need to mount a coup...

Of Eric, Grace, Bonnie, Bobby and Alison

Morecambe & Wise and the tribute statue to Eric in his home town Morecambe, after which he took his stage name. [click any pic to embiggen]

It's another snippets post today, dear reader:

• National treasure news: It's the centenary today of one of Britain's most beloved comedians, Eric Morecambe, "the funny half" of the prime-time-TV staples Morecambe and Wise. He was a phenomenon, and their popularity led to an endless stream of top guests, including one soon-to-be-Dame:

Morecambe & Wise - Shirley Bassey:

• Where does time go? news: Over at the superb Bitterness Personified blog, Mr Graham Russell reminds us that we're all getting old - it is 45 years since Grace Jones' magnum opus the album Nightclubbing was released! Gulp.

Grace Jones - I've Seen That Face Before (Libertango)

• It's a Heartache news: The legendary Bonnie Tyler is "seriously ill but stable" after undergoing emergency surgery in Portugal, where she has a home. Get well soon, darling!

Bonnie Tyler - Holding Out For a Hero

• Ol' Mackie news: It's ninety years since the great swinger Walden Robert Cassotto, better known as Bobby Darin was born!

Bobby Darin - Mack the Knife

• And finally: The utterly faboo Miss Alison Goldfrapp was 60 years old yesterday! Another gulp.

Goldfrapp - Strict Machine

And the weather? Up and down like a whore's drawers again, dear reader - one minute brilliant sunshine, the next black skies, rain and even thunder. Britain, Britain, Britain.

A Petri-dish with hot tubs and a climbing wall

All that positive hantavirus publicity got you thinking of booking a cruise? Before you set sail like a carefree, ocean-going Zack Polanski, consider these reasons not to:

The passengers
You’re trapped with them. Vacuous, boring bastards in pink polo shirts with wives in their 50s made up to be in their 20s. There’s no escaping the twat who’s immensely proud of setting up the most successful tyre supply business in East Renfrewshire, not on this trip, and keelhauling is sadly outlawed.

The food
Food is included in the price, or the permanent buffet of shite in the prison-like canteen is. They make it as tasteless as possible to drive you to pay for meals in the very costly restaurants. And if you want a drink? You’ll be ordering it from the barman on every single occasion you need liquid. Yes, there will be a queue.

The entertainment
No entertainer worthy of the name would sign up for three months in a windowless cabin at sea. Plenty of entertainers not worthy of the name will. Given an audience of tossers who believe an Elvis impersonator who can instantly switch to Robbie Williams is astonishing, they will pander to them. Night after night. And you’ll be there because that’s where the gin is.

Seasickness
Seas get rough, and once your lavishly-appointed ship runs into a storm and begins lurching around like a drunken hippo with labyrinthitis everyone will be throwing up. You’ll be confined to your cabin and timing vomiting to when the toilet isn’t slopping water all over the bathroom floor you’re kneeling on.

Viruses
And that’s when the metal container you’re locked in with thousands of strangers doesn’t become an incubator for an exciting new virus, keen to work its magic in this Petri-dish with hot tubs and a climbing wall. All while many, many nautical miles from the nearest hospital. You begin to realise why ghost ships were such a frequent phenomenon.

The stops on land
After what feels like months trapped at sea but has actually been three days, you get the chance to escape. Bliss. Three hours in the most touristy harbours the world has to offer, where every shop is geared to selling you expensive jewellery you won’t notice the flaws of until you’re back on board your floating prison with that twat from the tyre business again.

The Daily Mash

Of course.

Swinging!

Scilla peruviana (again) - on full breathtaking display [click to embiggen]

The first sunny day since we've been back, and it was inevitable that I'd spend it in the extensive gardens here at Dolores Delargo Towers! We now have two sets of display shelves - and each needed a bit of propping-up to avoid them shifting on our uneven, sloping paving, so all the pots needed to come off. Then came the job of gathering up the plants again (and more), to arrange them on and around the shelving for maximum display and to disguise the edges. At each turn, the crud and litter (mainly from the bastard weed trees) had to be cleared [as did the pots/troughs of spent daffs and the dead wallflowers and tulips, to be replaced with the foxgloves, the first of which I potted-up] - and several plants needed potting on/refreshed compost as I went along. Needless to say, I'm aching...

What finer tonic could there be after all that, than a trip into the heart of Swinging Soho - courtesy of the ever-marvellous Soft Tempo Lounge?

Soft Tempo Lounge - London Chic '67

Ah, that's better.

[Music: Polish Radio Orchestra - My Girl, Suzy; Original film: Swinging Britain in the 60s: A Psychedelic Dream (1967) - British Pathé]

Did you miss me?

Yes, we're back in miserable, dank Blighty, after a wonderful week in the blazing sunshine of Benalmadena. Great friends, great food, booze, totty-spotting, banter, booze, lots of laughs, nights out in the sleazy environs of La Nogilera in Torremolinos and booze - business as usual, really!

Our journey out was knackering: only a meagre amount of sleep, and a taxi at 2.30am to catch a flight from Gatwick at the crack'o'doom - so much so that we didn't even go out on Saturday night - and our journey home from Luton airport was marred by the fact that there were no trains to London, so we ended up on a coach transfer to some god-forsaken hole (Hitchin) to get a connection. At least that train got us straight to Finsbury Park (nearer home than Kings Cross) - but there was no Piccadilly Line either, so we had to get a cab... None of that matters, of course, when the bit in the middle was such a joy!

But - what did we miss while we were on our week of hedonism? Well, there was a massive furore over that plague ship that needed to be evacuated after several passengers died of a Medieval disease; and it was a local elections wipeout for Labour, which has put PM Kier Starmer at risk of being ousted. Then there was the glittering Met Gala (now sponsored by the Google mafia Jeff Bezos and Lauren Sánchez), the important scientific discovery that beer is good for you as it contains vitamins, the departure of Ted Turner for that great 24-hour-television-channel-in-the-sky - and the man who pulled a car using his penis, while on fire [I'm not making this up, you know]!

We also missed celebrating the 90th birthday of Engelbert Humperdinck, the 85th of Earth, Wind and Fire co-founder Philip Bailey, the 80ths of Sir David Suchet and Thelma Houston (and what would have been the 80th of Lesley Gore), the - gulp - 65ths of Jay Aston from Bucks Fizz and George Clooney...

...and Sir David Attenborough's 100th birthday!

David Attenborough's Life of Birds - The Lyre Bird

But did we bring anything back for your delectation, dear reader?

This being a Tacky Music Monday, it could only be Spain's answer to Dame Shirl, the late, great Señorita Rocío Jurado, at her big-haired, OTT best!

Rocío Jurado - Como Una Ola

Is it good to be back?

NO!

El ritmo de la noche, sounds of fiesta

By the time you read this, dear reader - if ever you do, given yesterday's debacle - we should (hopefully) be just about landing in Malaga for another week of hedonism...

Here's a little variation on our usual theme of Vamos a la Playa to keep you entertained:

Loona - Vamos a la Playa

"Normal" service will be resumed, with any luck, in a week's time...

You and me can dance so free

Our Scilla peruviana ("Portuguese Squill") is stunning. [click to embiggen]

"Hooray, hooray, the first of May! Outdoor sex begins today."

In the extensive gardens here at Dolores Delargo Towers, the daffs, tulips and primulas - as well as the cherry and apple blossoms in the neighbourhood - are over. The air is now scented with the intoxicating perfume of lilacs, jasmine, rowan and the last of the wallflowers. How does one adequately encapsulate the scents of Spring? The combination is simply divine.

To add to the uplifting mood, I'm counting down to the end of a particularly gruelling week - and tomorrow we're up in the deathly hours in order to get a taxi to Gatwick Airport, to catch our flight to Spain for a week's much-needed holiday! I have never needed a holiday this much [since the last one, of course 😎]!

Let's have something suitably Spanish to get the celebrations going, shall we - and who could be more appropriate than our Patron Saint of Plastic, Charo?!

¡Gracias Disco Es viernes!

Charo - Dance a Little Bit Closer

Have a great weekend, dear reader! We intend to.

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STOP PRESS:

I don't know when - or even if - you will actually see this, dear reader, but I timed it to publish at 7.30am...and it is now 6.30pm and it still hasn't shown up! I hate the Google gnomes.