Anna's Euro-trash party

J and I headed over to my sister's flat for the annual Euro-trash party. I don't think there are any pics yet but you can get the general idea by looking at one of her other parties ( Theme: Mile High Airways). Pics of that party here. (If you look carefully you may see me hanging upside-down off the pole in pink plastic boots. You need to start at the bottom and work up to make sense of the photos and captions. J was dressed as a tourist and I was a groupie. )

Anyway, that was a while ago so let me report back on last night's thrash. The gaiety of the nations was enhanced by the presence of guests from France, Spain, and the the Netherlands, which meant that we were able to announce the scores of guests in four languages. What scores? The Rachel's Eurovison Drinking game ( c) scores, of course. As featured in the Guardian Culture blog, woo hoo.

We added in some extra characteristics: hotpants, Xtreme fake tan, breakdancing, inadvertent previous porn career ( whoooopsie, Ms. Croatia -NOT SAFE FOR WORK) and battle commenced with international snacks soaking up the vast quantities of alcohol. Salami, crisps, garlic bread, and lots and lots of international cheese, appropriately.

There was a lot of screaming as people fought to identify their characteristics as soon as they appeared on screen and get points: the nice devout Pentecostal Church-going French girl shouting '' Crotch! Extreeeme crotch!'' at regular intervals was a particular highlight. If we'd had Wearing all-white as a characterisitic, whoever had that would have romped it. Was the gig sponsored by Daz? ( Not wierdy-peaerdy Daz from the UK, who was just embarrassing...) However, Finland rightly triumphed and afterwards we all rocked out immensely, head-banging, pom pom waving, marraccas and devil horns salutes. Then it gets a bit messy, but I definitely taught several people to pole dance and demonstrated climbing up to the top of my sister's pole and hanging upside-down by your ankles, which is not at all advisable in a floor-length skirt, and I slid down way too fast and avoided landing on the top of my head by a whisker, but I did crash land on my back instead, and have a huge bruise to show for it However, I was pissed and carried on like a trooper.

Read fab Troubled Diva Mike's Euro-blog here. It's time for me to lie on the sofa and drink tea and rest my bruised limbs and support J as he bites his nails for the Leeds playoff final. C'MON LEEDS! Argh, head, back, bruises ow ow ow.