Proof that people from Australia called Jon Spiker cannot pour a beer...

Poor Gerard - a glum face and no wonder, what with the veritable glass of froth that Jon just magicked up. Disgraceful!

I am officially somebody's fool...

There, it's official... I am, in the best Mr T sense, somebody's fool. I spent a frantic five minutes searching for the above file yesterday, despite the fact that it was in my hand the whole time. Shocking...

More questionable hair on the train...

Dyed brown mullet tied in a pony tail? I think the late 80s want their hair back, friend...

Calgary Mike

I feel that a big shout out should go to Mike, Carly's man from Calgary, who was in town for Christmas and left a big mark. Many things were memorable, such as his custom of choosing a different beer from the convenience store every time, and whacking his sushi on the hotplate to cook it before eating, but the moment that will stick in my mind is when we sang the Kenny Rogers song, Lucille, at karaoke. The big man carried me throughout the song, doing it all sorts of justice, despite not wanting to sing at all. Though he may be gone, his presence is still felt, and Kurume is looking forward to the day big Mike decides to drop by again.

A dark dream...

In a dark dream, even for me, the dreamer of very dark dreams, this was one... I was a pathologist, carrying out an autopsy with Asami from Audition (above) as my attending nurse. She was giggling at inopportune moments, so I turned to her and said:

"Nurse, when I am doing an autopsy, don't get on my nerves."

To which she looked at me in almost the same way as the above photo and said, in a very soft voice:

"Doctor, when I am doing your autopsy, I will get all your nerves."

Just as she said this, I had a horrific mind flash of me prostrate on the operating table, with Asami winding out my nerves on a skewer...