He was deranged, but not even he would consider using sarin gas rather than dry ice during his performance.
Assad makes Stavros sound like Sewell and would be pilloried. A punk standard with incomprehensible lyrics would disguise this flaw, as well as his inability to sing: demonstrated by his karaoke performance of Don’t Stop Believin’ at Mugabe’s ninetieth.
Textured white-linen envelope, hand-written address and was that a whiff of fondue and Nazi gold? The provenance was evident, especially considering the wax seal embossed with the hallowed crest of the European Broadcasting Company. The long wait was over.
Things are looking dire for Baz, and if he wants to avoid a future slurping Super Noodles in a damp Damascus bedsit whilst working on his right arm, he needs big bucks fast, which means a new job.
We asked ironclad foe of Eurovision Stephen James to talk about, well, Eurovision. This is what we got; Gonzo fiction from a parallel universe. The drugs are strong on Tyneside....