Avatar IMAX 3D

It is well known in film circles that James Cameron has been seeking a trilogy of his own (you can't let Intergalactic Obesity Spokesperson George Lucas have all the fun). This is a quest he started back in the '90's with Titanic. But sadly it all became too hard for Cameron when he realised that the subsequent two films would have to either star rusting metal or an old woman with a habit of throwing valuable gems into the ocean.

With FOX not being keen on either of these due to Rupert Murdoch's well founded fear of corroded metal (a problem he has to cope with when it comes to his burgundy hair exoskeleton), these plans were shelved (put away and not up someone's arse Stevie Nick's gacking style).

That is until through the wonders of technology, $310 million dollars, and Zoe Saldana, Cameron was finally able create a world (or moon in this case) that would allow him to merchandise with the best of them.

The result is - when experienced in IMAX 3-D - pure, euphoric sexy-times for your eye-holes. There are no two ways about it, watch the making-of below to see how they have fucked technology in every possible opening to capture the actor's performances and create a film (that while occasionally hackneyed in dialogue) will stay with you for days.

Cameron, luckily, kept Celine Dion well away from the soundtrack. Although having said that I'm not sure Leona Lewis is a better choice. The man does have a thing for wailing divas.

I'd give it 4 stars purely for the hours of debate that follow about Na'vi reproduction. Is it with those nifty ponytail conduits? And if so does that mean they also have sexy-times with their beasts and the trees? And if they do it with the plats then why do they wear loin cloths? What's under there? Do they have blue-bits? Or is it a dual-action above and below type procedure? Hawt. (Unless of course you are a human of 6ft compared to their 10ft)

But at least I have finally, after 26 years of searching, found my goal in life. I am going to be an Avatar.

This film is a documentary right?

Things with speech bubbles - Tiger Woods

Things left on the sharing table - but I'm dirty!

Why someone would leave a clapped-out old frying pan and 1/8 a bottle of Homebrand dish washing liquid on the sharing table baffled me.

That is until I realised that if you watch any infomercial in this day and age (almost the year TewntyTen) you will discover that no longer is it good enough for a product to do one thing before it is thrown into the ever-growing rubbish island in the central Pacific Ocean, but it should also have a cluster of secondary and tertiary functions it can carry out.

Things have to slice, dice, splice, give birth to field mice, chip, slip, create Christian-friendly dip, lubricate, oscillate, masticate, titillate, receive Al Jazeera, send shortwave radio signals, cut through shoe-leather and simultaneously trim, pluck, shape and bejewel your bikini-line.

What dual action this frying pan and bonus washing liquid are able to perform (warm soapy casseroles to wash your sprog's mouths out?) I am not certain. But I admire their pioneering spirit and gormless optimism that anyone would want their wares.

Blobbies

Things with speech bubbles - Hon. Julie Gillard MP & Hon. Peny Wong MP

Things left on the sharing table - a christmas present for a lady

I haven't even thought about Christmas shopping yet this year, but this morning I noticed something on the share table that could become the perfect gift for my favourite mother, sister, lady-friend, lady-wife, work-mate or the tranny islander hooker at the end of my street.

What grand lady about town wouldn't want a vibrating lady-brush that not only stimulates your skull's androgynous-erogenous zones but also comes with a FREE Bonus! [sic] VHS that demonstrates how to make you look like someone who has survived a shipwreck only to start using jizz as a hair product? (See bottom left of picture.)

Things with speech bubbles - The Queen

Things left on the sharing table - ladies things (things of a lady)

Sharing tables are a strange communist hang over of apartment buildings, "I'm moving out anyone want my brown sugar?" or, "Hey look it is an out-dated yellow pages" are normally the sum total of Chairman Mao's side table. But in my building it seems a place to share all kinds of feminine hygiene products (and the by-products).

YouTube what did I do without you?

This guys obviously needs a girlfriend. And the easiest way to earn yourself some lady-loving? Become an instant welebrity. What's the best way of doing that? Make a clip about two girls and a poo filled cup? No, done. Film yourself having awkward sex with a night vision camera? Done, and see above problem. Become a fat, middle-aged, ugly Scottish lady with a dry sense of humour, the voice of an angel and a last name that describes a foreign growth on the human body? Done, done and done.

With all the obvious options already done, he decided to record himself 64 separate times in order to recreate Michael Jackson's Thriller from scratch. It is an achievement for floating white faces everywhere. All though I believe it is his version of Vincent Price's soliloquy that will earn him the he-she of his dreams.

Thanks Jed.