23/10/08. BA.

Panic Room, 2004-ish.

Really should be called "I am mesmerized by Jodie Foster's chest and as a consequence have no idea what is going on". Five stars.

26/10/08. BA.

One bowls fairly carelessly down the emerald avenues of life, believing that a pea-sized blob of shampoo and a kitchen sink full of hottish water are all it takes to remove stubborn blemishes from the smalls and return almost any of the intimate garments to showroom condition.

But hang on just a cotton-pickin' minute. It appears that rare steak juice - pink , hot and fatty - utterly thwarts this notion. Don't eat wet beef in your good pants.

31/10/08. BA.

I bloody love Buenos Aires. It's completely, barkingly, eye-gougingly nuts. Screamingly bonkoid. Crazed like the paving and nutty like the bar. I worried that I was going to be humiliated by my Spanish, and punched, stabbed, kicked and hated for being English. It hasn't happened and I doubt it will. Argentina baby!

There's a little bit of me that, after 3 weeks in Argentina, can never eat meat again. Thank buggery it's not my mouth!

5/11/08. BA.

Obama is El Presidente! Fuck you McCain. Fuck your team's cheap Obama/Osama puns. Fuck your Hussein gags. Fuck Sarah Palin, her airbrushed Alaskan prehistoric bullshit, and her neanderthal Creationist loser dogshit dogma. Apparently there is a Sarah Palin sex doll available on the internet. If the manufacturers can find the common courtesy to send me one, I will ceremonially crucify it atop a pyre of Black Sabbath records, copies of "The Origin Of Species" and reams upon reams of family planning literature. *

12/11/08. BA.

A fashionable statistic states that the average US citizen has five pounds of undigested red meat in his intestinal tract. Luxury! I have double that in my oesophagus alone.

*This is way less offensive than what I originally planned to say.