This is it! This is actually it! This is actually Eurovision week. Finally. Finally.

You’ll be bored of these reminders by Saturday, but don’t forget that we’re liveblogging the Eurovision Song Contest this weekend, right here. We’re doing it because we love you. And you love us too, right? You love us enough to stay in and comment on the liveblog, right? Because lord knows that we’re pathetic enough for doing it in the first place. We don’t want to be doing it alone.

Here are the Eurovision 2009 profiles for Quartissimo and Martina Majerle from Slovenia and Soraya Arnelas from Spain…

Slovenia · Quartissimo and Martina Majerle, Love Symphony

Confusing Slovenia and Slovakia used to be quite easy to do – after all, they sound the same and we get the impression that people from both countries are monobrowed hunchbacks – but not any more, and we’ve got Eurovision to thank for that. As we’ve already told you, Slovakia’s Eurovision entry is morbidly depressing, but Slovenia’s sounds like it should be used on an advert for diamonds or wildly expensive catfood or something. Love Symphony by Quartissimo and Martina Majerle is also unusual for another reason – there’s hardly any singing in it. Honestly, the first third of the song is nothing but a bunch of old men wanking about on violins, and you don’t even get to see what the singer looks like until about 30 seconds from the end. It’s all very mysterious. Mysterious but not good. Definitely not good.

Spain · Soraya Arnelas, La noche es para mí

Before we start, let’s play a game. Guess which Spain has entered Eurovision this year – the one that’s all history and flamenco guitars and boredom, or the one that’s all Benidorm and all-inclusive chip dinners and awfulness? Neither! In a dramatic departure from the norm, Spain has tried something fresh and new for this year’s Eurovision – it’s decided to rip off Touch My Fire, the 2005 UK Eurovision entry by Javine. Only, you know, it’s in Spanish so it’s a sort of Javine/Dora The Explorer hybrid. In English, La Noche Es Para Mi means ‘the night is for me’, from which we can presume that Soraya Arnelas is either a drug addict, a burglar or a Slow Loris. Any of these things would be more interesting than the song itself, mind you, which appears to go on for several decades without ever really doing anything.

You! Follow hecklerspray on Twitter!

But before we get to the good stuff, we’ve got the daily Eurovision rehearsal rundowns to get through. What have they taught us this time? That the Portuguese woman sometimes doesn’t wear shoes, that the Maltese woman has a black and silver theme and that… no, we’ve already told you too much.

Here are the Eurovision betting odds for Spain, with help from Paddy Power…

Spain (pop. 43,197,684; a country located in southwest Europe) Rodolfo Chikilicuatre, Baila El Chiki-Chiki

We don’t wish to appear rude, but Spain is probably a few years behind the rest of the world. That’s because the rest of the world learnt long ago that you should never let people on the internet choose anything for you. Spain’s learnt that lesson now, but it learnt it the hard way – by letting MySpace users pick Rodolfo Chikilocuatre to represent it at Eurovision. Imagine the bad pisstakey music that used to close episodes of Eurotrash. That’s basically Baila El Chiki-Chiki in a nutshell, except that this is far scarier because it’s real. A Reggaeton song performed by a skinny git in an Elvis wig and a tiny guitar, not even ironic appreciation can save Baila El Chiki-Chiki. It’s the name of a dance apparently, and Hugo Chavez dances it. So do dead people. And blah blah blah blah. If we ignore him, maybe Rodolfo Chikilicuatre will get bored and go away. Current Eurovision betting odds – 33/1

Tomorrow: Sweden! But if that’s too long to wait – or you feel like making more money than you know what to do with – head right over to the Paddy Power Eurovision betting odds page to see the latest, and best, betting odds.

A documentary was aired on Spanish TV last night claiming that Cliff Richard was the rightful winner of the 1968 Eurovision Song Contest in London, but General Franco’s fascist regime rigged the vote in Spain’s favour.

These are just claims, of course, and we have no reason to believe that they’re true – firstly because if you can’t trust an all-powerful unblinking facist dictatorship then who can you trust, and secondly because Cliff Richard is going to be really sodding unbearable once he finds out about it.

The Eurovision Song Contest is now less than three weeks away, and while the British are busy rehearsing their traditional pre-Eurovision routine of violently disliking their own entry and then getting upset when the rest of Europe inevitably agrees with them, the Spanish have decided to try something different.

Rather than focus on this year’s song – which is probably for the best since this year’s Spanish Eurovision entry is a skinny tit in an Elvis wig and a tiny guitar singing a reggae song about how Hugo Chavez dances like a dog – the Spanish have decided to look back on their Eurovision victory of 1968 and blame it on the machinations of their fascist dictatorship.

Eurovision buffs will already know that the winning song was Spain’s La La La by Masseil, with Cliff Richard’s Congratulations coming second by a single point. But last night it was claimed that this was down to corrupt Spanish state television executives promising to buy TV shows from European countries in exchange for votes. The Press Association reports:

Sir Cliff Richard was robbed of victory in the 1968 Eurovision Song Contest due to vote rigging by General Franco’s fascist regime, a documentary has claimed. The British singer’s tune Congratulations was beaten to the top spot by Spanish entrant Massiel in order to boost the country’s international image, a film-maker said… In a documentary aired on Spanish TV on Sunday night, director Montse Fernandez Vila claimed Spain’s win was “bought” by corrupt executives working for state-run television.

This isn’t a good state of affairs by any means. Cliff Richard has already elbowed his way into popular trends like giving music away on the internet and tormenting the young, so the last thing we need is for him to become a standard bearer of grumbling about how political Eurovision has got. What next? Will Wired For Sound be included on Guitar Hero 4? Is Cliff Richard going to start performing guest raps in the middle of Beyonce songs? We need to stop this madness while we can.

Anyway, if these claims are true, and General Franco’s fascist dictatorship really did rig the results of the 1968 Eurovision Song Contest, then maybe similar practises still go on today. For instance, perhaps Scooch didn’t win Eurovision for the UK last year because of an underhanded political agreement by east European countries to vote for each other.

Either that or because their song was objectively rubbish and European people have ears. One or the other.

Read more:

‘Fascists stole’ Cliff’s Euro title – Press Association

It’s probably because we’re blasting Electric Youth, track 7 of Debbie Gibson’s critically acclaimed second album, also entitled Electric Youth. We realise most people might think it’s entirely too loud, but loud is the only way to listen to such an incredible talent.

Allow us, if you will, to reach past our 8.5×11 full-colour glossy autographed copy of a Debbie Gibson 2003 head shot, past our recently acquired eBay-sandwich bag full of Debbie Gibson hair and soap scrapings, and past the finely stitched velveteen pillow delicately covered in rose petals and lip-shaped chap stick smudges, to turn down the volume. That’s for Debbie. The pillow is for Debbie.

What’s that? You didn’t know any of us Deb-heads still existed? You may be surprised to know, then, that there are enough of us to almost literally fill the convention room of the Renaissance Inn down in Oklahoma City. One such fan even stalked her recently – followed her all the way to her hotel room. She did not appreciate this at all.

The country of Spain loves a good bull fight. Also they love murdering all Aztecs everywhere and throwing doubloons deep into the ocean. That’s all they like though. Seriously – they can fit it all on two cable channels.

Oh – and they love Debbie Gibson too. At least enough for her to sing in things called ‘nationwide performances.’ The people there really eat it up. One things for sure though – she doesn’t reciprocate the affections.

That’s not true. Gibson would likely be the first to tell you every single lyric she’s written in the past decade and a half, she’s written with España in mind. Except for one of them anyway.

One Spanish fan has gone too far. All he wanted to do was marry Debbie forever and carry her perfect babies for as many trimesters as it took, but he showed it in awkward ways. As Colin Farrell, Sandra Bullock, Tyra Banks and Conan O’Brien might all tell you, the delivery makes all the difference. Jordi Bassas Puigdollers, though, showed it through unsolicited phone calls, emails, trips backstage, and once even by following Debbie back to her hotel room and slipping a well-written ‘Let’s meet’ note under her door. Puigdollers was contacted for a comment, and he said:

“I wanted to use the fan club to help people who can’t go see her to get autographs and photos.”

You can’t act like that, our Spanish friend. For the good of your very freedom, you have to move on. If you really need someone to cling to, might we suggest either Tiffany or Samantha Fox. They don’t really respond to fan mail either, but so far they haven’t been that mean about it.

We keep pushing for them to double-headline the Utah state fair. It appears things are booked clear through 2015.

Read More:

Debbie Gibson Seeks Restraining Order Against Spanish Man – Associated Press