Hugh Laurie + American Accent = Wednesday Nights In

Phew!
It is a scorching hot 30 degrees celsius outside - as I watch enviously from behind a malevolent computer screen - and it is actually still winter. WINTER! Women are already wearing skirts of dubious lengths which is always an indication that it’s summer time (unless you’re in Coleraine or something and the barometer needle has just broken at a crushing 17 degree maximum).

Well, Freeman and I made it to Australia Zoo and - heartbreakingly - Steve Irwin wasn’t there! The appeal of crocodiles lunging after food is nothing compared to the khaki clad one and I was devastated. The day was made slightly better by buying a wristband which said ‘Crikey!’ on it. A small consolation.

And we finally got to see whales! Lots of them! Captain Kerry Lopez worked her smooth voiced magic and humpbacks were all around, giving us the eye and most likely plotting world domination with the dolphins.

I have a confession to make - I have fallen completely and utterly in love with Dr Gregory House. Hugh Laurie is singularly unappealing as a Brit but when he switches on a gravelly, relatively convincing American accent then he becomes a razor tongued sex monkey. The TV program itself ain’t bad - I mean, any program that can attempt to convince you that Billy Kennedy out of Neighbours is a capable, fully trained medic is deserving of many pointless accolades.

Thom Yorke - The Eraser. As indulgent as I think it is?

What is the Capital of Madagascar?

And the more important question is - how the bloody hell do you pronounce it?

A rather intrepid traveller came in to see me yesterday with either Madagascar or Morocco in mind. Part of my job is to get as much information about the client as possible, such as why they want to go to said destination. This guy, who has obviously thought about it for a long time, replied:

'Because they have lemurs! I really want to see the lemurs!'

Don't we all, eh? That said, he stumped me with the capital city question. The answer is 'Antananariva' which looks like the end product if the person who invented the word 'banana' was given a little more creative leeway.

My all expenses paid weekend at Seaworld was fantastic fun, and although I ended up not getting dressed up (boo me!) there were enough Vicky Pollards and Anns to make up for it. Little Britain as a theme doesn't really suit a woman, though. Let's face it - it's hilarious to see a bloke in a dress, especially if he's wearing a cardigan that he has bought especially for the occasion. A woman dressing up as a woman is slightly less effective, although some enterprising ladies had some pretty convincing monobrows.

End result of week - no one has died because of my shockingly bad skills as a travel consultant. I am eyeing all people with iPods with a certain degree of suspicion, though.

Dressing Up Makes Me Feverish!

As part of my new job, there are monthly 'buzz nights' held for the employees of a certain area, and next weekend I get to go on an all expenses paid trip to Seaworld on the Gold Coast for what is basically a giant piss up. Fun, I hear you say. I quite agree apart from the fact that it will be a Little Britain themed dress up night. I think that it requires a large amount of original thinking to dress up effectively and unfortunately, people usually beat me to my own thoughts. For example, in the hostel recently, we had a 'Cops and Robbers' themed night. My first thought was Robocop. Two other guys turned up as Robocop. So, for this one, I was thinking Doctor Who in honour of the wonderful Tom Baker. But where could I get such a spectacular scarf?

Last night I went out with my workmates and had, rather shockingly, a decent pint of Guinness. Or rather, several decent pints of Guinness in a bar frequently by city folks finishing a long hard day at the office. Now, I don't know if this is a hard and fast rule, but business men are the sleaziest men that you could ever be unfortunate enough to find Except that they find you and bombard you with compliments so cheesy that mice begin to emerge from the floorboards. Horrible.

Mike and I are going whale watching yet again tomorrow and hopefully this time, we will actually see whales. Although, knowing our meteorological luck, there will probably be a rogue iceberg just off the coast of Moreton Island waiting to puncture the stern. And then we'll all be eaten by ravenous dugongs. Our luck is genuinely that bad.