All weekend, we were watching tweets trickle in about our beloved Eurovision Song Contest, the drunky-funky festival in which a bunch of nationally chosen musical acts represent all the most cracked-out, smacked-out, whacked-out aspects of their home countries and then are voted into either heroism or oblivion. We’re very sad we weren’t around to watch the live-streaming, so thank God for photographs — seriously, if U.N. meetings were like this, EVERYONE would be forming little countries of one just to apply for membership.
