Gay vultures of the world unite

For years now, scientists have been pointing out the incidences of homosexuality in the animal kingdom to support that argument that same-sex attraction is a case of nature over nurture. Indeed, there are so many animals turning to the love that dare not woof, squawk or whinny its name, that Noah's Arc could have been converted into a Mardi Gras float.

Unfortunately for our furry and feathered friends, life outside of the closet comes at a cost. Because even gay animals can be victimised and bullied.

Take Guido and Detlef for instance. They're a handsome pair of Griffon vultures who found each other's raw animal magnetism too strong to resist. So they shacked up together in a makeshift nest in Munster Zoo.

Interestingly, the birds are described as 'predatory males' and spend their days "grooming one another... and fortifying their nest". Which suggests that it's not just the sexual activity that these birds have in common with their human counterparts.

However, those pesky conservationists were concerned that the birds were so busy gentrifying the aviary that they were unlikely to help grow their species number. And I guess gay adoption would be out of the question for them.

Sadly, Guido was snatched from his paramore and dispatched 400 miles east to a zoo in the Czech Republic, leaving Detlef to mooch about the cage and listen to Celine Dion CDs. The zookeepers have replaced Guido with a potential female mate, but she's destined to a life of loneliness, as the world's first vulture faghag.

Like most ex-gays, Detlef is "reorienting himself", but has yet to touch his new life partner. Presumably, she's wondering what's wrong with her, and he's thinking she needs a makeover.

Gay rights campaigners aren't happy either, arguing that "This is like in the dark middle ages, forcibly making a creature sexually re-orient itself by tearing its partner from its side." They're scared that once this precedent has been set, we might one day see the same thing happen to gay people as well.

Admittedly that's a preposterous assumption. Or is it? Earlier this year an elderly couple hit the headlines when Sonoma County authorities separated them and placed them in different nursing homes, denying them to chance to live out their remaining months together, despite a twenty-year relationship.

It remains to be seen whether or not Guido and Detlef's story will have a happier ending. This vulture certainly hopes so.

Time stands still

It might be a perspex double piano but this is not Lady Gaga and Elton John. It's Romania, and they're 'Playing With Fire' apparently. Hope that piano's insured. The two singers look like they should be hosting a daytime talk-show, not belting out a dance ballad in a leather catsuit and bomber jacket combo. That's Eastern Europe for you.

Holy knitwear Batman, it's Russia. Looking like they just rolled out of a trawler net, they're a melancholy bunch and are switching between their native language and English. It's curiously melodic, and is one of the better songs of the evening - even if it makes me want to drink until I forget. Nice falsetto on the lead singer, but that could just be some kickback from the wind machine.

Armenia is represented by a young lady with gargantuan breasts - a smart move given the number of heterosexual men who religiously follow Eurovision. She's got cheap hair extensions, but to be honest, she could shave her head during the key change and nobody would notice. It's not every day you hear a song dedicated to an apricot stone. For which we should all be thankful.

Representing Germany - it's Lena. She's not really singing or dancing - it's like she's invented a new musical form. That's a lovely anchor tattoo on the inside of her bicep - she's officially the world's prettiest Popeye impersonator.

Another pretty lady, this time singing for Portugal. Dull piano ballad. We have a bad case of Evita-arms, like she's trying to read a broadsheet newspaper without smudging her nail varnish. Only two to go, and then Spain will be performing again because their first attempt was interrupted by an unruly audience member.

Our penultimate performance is from Israel, sung by a handsome young man with a very thin head. This is definitely the year of the forgettable ballad. There are a lot of phlegmy sounds, someone should have had a pack of Strepsils in his jacket pocket. Good grief, if you think this is hard to sit through, you should try blogging about it.

Come on Denmark - here's hoping you can end on a high note, and maybe more than about eleven beats-per-minute. This is written by Thomas G:son who is something of a Swedish songwriting legend, so it should be half-decent. The duo singing look like Myleene Klass and Michael Bolton's ghost. It ain't pretty, but it's OK as mid-eighties rock ballads go, like a Berlin b-side.

Well, that's your lot. Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. Which isn't very much, but what else are you gonna watch on a Saturday night? Ant and Dec? Thanks for sticking with me through that - a problem shared and all that...