Another day, another fuck all to do. What a royal pain in the ass this is. Went out with Mac on Friday and got medium ripped and listened to some show tunes which was pretty much the highpoint of my week I can tell you ;-) Actually I, um, saw my sister as well on Weds, and she regaled me with her latest skiing exploits in Keystone or Aspen or wherever . . . Bumped into Hairy Richard on Friday as well and had one of those quite awkward 'need to make conversation but actually I have nothing to say to you' conversations in the street. Someone who shall be nameless thinks he should be renamed Creepy Richard, but I think that's a bit strong, perhaps something along the lines of Slimy would be aposite. Anything else . . . saw my Godson & Cath on Thursday . . . we went to a teashop with the other Mummys. It was all very nice - lovely cakes. Phil's back . . . fm2 just came home in the middle of the day - she got fired because her boss thought, quote, there was a 'personality clash'. What I love about Britain is that despite 100 years of employment legislation if you work for unscrupulous bastards then they'll always find some loophole to get you on if they want to. Wankers.

Other than that - nothing. Being me is boring, dudes.

Watched Sur Mes Levres (Read My Lips) last night. If any of you are familiar with my list of Top 20 Bad Things you'll be able to guess how much I liked this. Trust me - it was a lot.

What is it about French Cinema - it just exudes cool like nothing else. Even though 'les types' are so architypal - the femme fatale, the coquette, the criminal, the 50 year old bloke in a hat - you know exactly where you are with all these characters but the number of permutations of them is limitless.