Well I have to say, Lisa should breathe a sigh of relief - my steamer wasn't a patch on Lorraine's. I didn't even know you could get steamers that big. If you put it on the front lawn, people would think a UFO had landed. So I'm actually quite pleased Lisa didn't get to see my pitiful effort. Although on the plus side, at least she'd have been able to fit mine in her kitchen.

Incidentally, I'm afraid my steamer's no longer up for sale - I've found the receipt, so I'm selling it back to Mr Tesco and pocketing the cash.

But anyway, without further ado...


Have a fantastic day, and I'd just like to say that I didn't really mind being constantly prodded to keep me awake for an hour at 7:30am so that I could share in the joy of the card-opening ceremony.

Anyhoo, having driven down to Brighton yesterday in torrential rain, and some of the worst driving conditions I've ever experienced (I wouldn't mind a bit of global warming right about now), we finally made it to the Duke of Yorks Picturehouse to see 'Overnight' last night. It was very good, though I'm obviously developing a conscience, because I actually found it harder to laugh at Troy Duffy's failure than I thought I would. The man was clearly despicable, and would happily bad-mouth anyone from Ethan Hawke to his own brother (and I particularly enjoyed his phone call to Kenneth Branagh), but ultimately, when he and his friends had finally blown the $300,000 he got for his script, and ended up back in their dead-end menial jobs, you couldn't help feeling kinda sad about the whole thing.

Although obviously I won't make those same mistakes when I'm offered $300k for my first script.

Anyhoo, I've gotta go - when Lisa emerges from the shower we're off for a birthday lunch at a venue which has yet to be decided upon. It's currently a toss-up between a trendy little Brighton restaurant called The Saint, or the McDonalds Drive-Thru. And then of course we're Frying tonight, which is quite exciting. I'm hoping Colin will get a message from an Oscar, so that I can put my hand up and see how long I can carry on a conversation about my deceased family member who tragically died prematurely from a heart complaint at the age of eight, without ever letting on that he was a cat.