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No free taco. My dad will be disappointed.

Matt linked to an interview with Todd Solondz, who made the films “Welcome to the Dollhouse” and “Happiness.” Nothing, I repeat, nothing is as funny as my sister doing the Weiner Dog dance. She’s gonna love this.

I’m actually not a real big fan of either film. “Dollhouse” just hit way, way too close for comfort. To make matters worse, I saw it with a friend who’s a junior high teacher and he guffawed through the whole thing. I just sat there and squirmed. And don’t even get me started on “Happiness.” It’s probably the only film in my life that I’ve ever seriously considered walking out on. I believe that Solondz is a unique artist and that he’s very good at what he does, but I can’t find the humor in such a bleak universe. Other optimists are warned to watch these films at their own peril.

What the heck? When did baseball start? What’s wrong with Mike’s knee? Jeez, you leave the hemisphere for two weeks and suddenly you’re out of the loop! That said, Mets in ’01!

Gael pointed to a great site full of Saturday Night Live Transcripts. My friend Kel and I are having a lot of fun reminiscing about our favorite episodes from college. I especially liked “Tinker Bell’s Revenge” (with Claire Danes), “Celebrity Jeopardy” (I’ll take “The Rapists” for $200, Alex!), another “Celebrity Jeopardy” (the one where Marlon Brando writes “Poop”), Gwyneth Paltrow’s monologue, “Old Glory Insurance” (Are YOU protected against robot attack?), and “Star Wars Screen Tests”.

My dad e-mailed me raving about some Taco Bell promotion to give everybody in the United States a free taco if Mir hits a target in the South Pacific. I figured he’d picked it up from some bogus e-mail forward. Turns out I was wrong. Now I wonder, how do they determine who’s eligible for this? Is it everybody physically located in the U.S.? What about tourists? What about illegal immigrants? In other words, how do I (theoretically, of course) get my taco??

Dark Horizons is running an interview with Colin Firth about his role in “Bridget Jones’ Diary.” You know, Colin, you’re really starting to piss me off with this whole “I’m-not-Darcy-and-I-hate-all-my-fans” thing. It’s like Russell Crowe. If you choose to be a movie star, you gotta accept the consequences and stop bitching about the very people who pay your salary. And what the hell is that bit about fighting Hugh Grant? That’s not in the book! Their characters are never even in the same place! Grrrr…

I’m still working on the photos. I’ve discovered an upside to jet lag: you get a lot done in the wee hours of the morning when everybody else is asleep. I’ve got about 60 done and 30 to go. Should be up tonight. In the meantime… let the blogging begin!

I’M BACK!
Photos are forthcoming… Stay tuned for more details!

In eight hours I’m leaving sunny Australia for the neverending gloom of the U.K. As if that weren’t depressing enough, I tripped on a sidewalk running to catch a bus yesterday and wrenched my ankle, which is now the size of a grapefruit. I can barely walk. I’m talkin’ serious pain here. On the plus side, my sister would’ve loved it. (She finds pratfalls to be the height of comedy.) I mean, painful though it was, I can see the inherent physical humor in a person trying to simultaneously run, turn, and remove a bus ticket from a backpack, which leads to said person tripping on a crack, stumbling forward, skinning her knees and hands, and finally belly-flopping on the pavement right in front of her astonished boyfriend, a bus driver, and about 30 bus passengers of various nationalities. And let’s not forget the other catastrophes of this otherwise wonderful holiday: I fell on my ass in Snookums’s garage (resulting in an egg-sized bruise on my bum), I had a land leech attached to my right foot (which left a bump that began to itch like mad a week later), I was caught in the worst floods Australia has seen in fifty years, and I got fried to a crisp after spending a mere 20 minutes in the sun (resulting in peeling shoulders and my having to cover myself in SPF 30 every time I set foot out-of-doors). Like I said, it’s probably best that I leave the country before it kills me. The next time y’all hear from me, I’ll be home in the boring (but safe) U.K.

Am I on holiday, or what? I can’t help posting. I go to check my e-mail and end up reading blogs and examining my site statistics. This one is too good to pass up: I’m the #2 result when you search for “paceyporn“, second only to the site itself! I swear, I didn’t think that up on my own. Somebody actually found my site that way.