Making your kisses bang a puppet birdie

On TV tonight there were two of the scariest-looking people I have ever seen. The female had the most extraordinary make-up; her face was bright orange, in the style made famous by David Dickinson, with bright blue eyelids flashing a band of brilliant white beneath the blackest of brows, and a scarlet mouth that appeared to have been applied with a sabre. Her male companion had skin of a similar startling hue, and bore a strong resemblance to an understudy Igor fresh from the Hammer House of Horror, though he lacked the requisite number of visible stitches.

After an outrageous public display of xenophobia and bias, the star of the show, however, was Xena the Warrior Princess and her cohorts, clad in studded leather, thongs and chains and brandishing whips, who was presented with her award by a person dressed as bride who got her stiletto heel trapped in a grille on the floor and fell out of her shoe and narrowly escaped being forced to either do an impression of Shirley Bassey on the Morecambe and Wise Show, hobbling across the stage in one high heel and one bare foot, or lob the trophy the width of the stage and hope that nobody important was concussed on the way.

Well, that's the Eurovision Song Contest over for another year. Roll on Kiev 2005!