From Tinka, who's currently drinking her liver into a gin-induced catatonia whilst watching Eurovision (which I missed half of, dammit.)

1. What songs have you been listening to repeatedly?

The Postal Service covering Phil Collins' Against All Odds; Voxtrot's The Start of Something and the Yeah Yeah Yeah's Gold Lion.

2. What are your best and worst character traits, in your opinion (not what others have told you)?

Best:
I store an entire library full of useless but interesting facts about in my head. Now, whilst this may not seen all that great, it does mean I'm pretty good at pub quizzes... I'm funny too.

Worst:
An unwavering certainty that I'm always right, the smugness that goes with that and also, my tendency to leave things as long as I possibly can before acting.

3. Which dead and gone TV show would you like to bring back to life and why?

They've done most of them already, I think, but I'll say The Red Hand Gang, which almost nobody I know has ever heard of. I can barely remember anything about it myself, admittedly, but it seemed pretty cool when I was wee.

4. What are your favourite words in the dictionary. Give me your five favouristest.

Ululation (To howl, wail, or lament loudly.) - a lovely, lovely example of onomatopoeia. Which, funnily enough, is my second word.

Onomatopoeia (To howl, wail, or lament loudly.) - alas, even after 30 years, I still can't spell the bloody word.

Smother (To suffocate.) - I like the ambiguity there - the implied love and luxury contrasting nicely with the death and sinister connotations.

Sloth (Aversion to work or exertion; laziness; indolence.) - Damn, but if any word sums up my home life, it's this one. Apparently, it's also the collective noun for bears.

Cacophony (Jarring, discordant sound; dissonance: I heard a cacophony of horns during the traffic jam.) - blame Asterix and the bard Cacophonix for this one...

5. If you could have any job in the world - what would it be?

Any job? I'm tempted to say something obvious, like Lord and High Commander of the Universe, but I think, just give me the job of curating the National Gallery or something and I'd be happy. And not just for being poncy and arty - I like dark red walls and old red leather sofas.

If you're really desperately in need of something to write about, I guess I could give you 5 questions, but form an orderly queue in the comments, please.

You know the reason Eurovision works? It's because it doesn't. Not perfectly, anyhow - there's always the slightly lost and drunken attitude of a telethon in the presenters' demeanour, and the desperate enthusiasm of the performers, destined to forever open shopping centres anywhere from Dublin to Tel Aviv. Still annoyed that Iceland didn't get through, mind.

Dave xx

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