Then you really need to go and have a word with yourselves and consider your participation.
I have just witnessed three of the most painful, eyeball-popping, jaw-dropping minutes of television that I have ever had the misfortune to witness. It starts with Jessika with a K – (K for knackered after this performance) – who is disrobed from her black hoodie and she then is wearing a white Essex-girl type outfit. They have robots and a sign that trolls Israel “I’m not your Robot”.
It then gets worse when the rapping sista Jenifer B (B for ..?) comes on, and they seem to be mincing around the stage looking aimless … and then we come to the voices. Dear God, they can’t actually sing can they? And that’s a shame, because Jessika is a lot better than this song suggests, but you really cannot polish this turd to such a degree that it gets good.
It’ll be shown on clip shows that take the piss out of this contest for the next 150 years so, in that regard, lets slow hand-clap the Straubs and their ridiculous national final idea.
Someone needs a word with SMRTV and quickly.