Every year towards the end of May hundreds of millions of people across Europe (and since 2015 Australia) gather in pubs, nightclubs and living rooms to watch the annual Eurovision Song Contest. As with that other European mainstay, the nudist beach, it’s something we all secretly enjoy but would never admit to publicly.
As much as cool and groovy 60s secret agents and crime-fighters battle under a snappy little acronym or title, so too do the thoroughly bad eggs on the other side. (N.B. White pussy cat not included.)
You cannot be a cool and groovy 60s secret agent or crime-fighter without a raft of gadgets, a sexy little car, a nifty wardrobe, and occasionally some mystical super powers. And you definitely need a snappy little acronym or title to stamp on your psychedelic-hued calling card.
I collect vintage Playboy magazines – don’t judge me.