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.

The land of the free and the money back guarantee - Sesame Street 1 Fox News 0

Not only has Sesame Street spent 40 years tirelessly (and thanklessly) crusading for the rights of yellow birds with giantism, but it continues to do two very crucial, world-changing things:

1. Teach kids how to mispronounce the letter Z (It's Zed, not Zee)

2. Offer fair and balanced news coverage to those with the mental age of a 4 year old (just like Fox News)

But controversy struck recently when The Grouch News Network hit out at its rival 'Pox' News. So to make good Pox News host Slip O'Rielly agreed to appear with Fox News host Bill O'Rielly. And the results are outstanding.

As a side nite - I think you'll notice in this clip that Slip O'Rielly isn't the only one at the desk with a strange man's hand up his arse...

Astronomical Box Office - Twilight author now rich enough to buy the actual Moon.

It is official Stephenie Meyer probably now has more money than both JK Rowling and Dan Brown can fit in their collective bumgina's (or bumgeen to the more rarefied). You would have to be living in a cave in the tribal regions of Pakistan to not know that Twlight: New Moon can now be seen at your local cineplex. (In fact this is probably our best chance of nabbing Bin Laden as I hear he is a mad-keen fan of Robert Pattinson's ruffled head-merkin).

New Moon has raked in over a quarter-of-a-billion dollars worldwide in one weekend. It has now become the third highest grossing opening weekend of all time in the US with a Oprahnomical US$140.7 million. And I am not at all surprised that it has raped former Australian opening weekend records (taking AU$16million) as when I was in Melbourne last week I discovered that there are 200 registered vampires that roam the streets of Melbourne at night.

Who knew Vampires were unionised? I bet Rush Limbaugh would be outraged if he knew so many young American's were going to see a film about hundred-year-old socialists with messy hair. Actually he probably wouldn't care as they are very pale.

But I guess what surprises me is that a film based around the short-lived stage of the moon - where it is roughly in the same direction as the Sun, and therefore appears to be whole - is playing so well with the youth.

Who knew moon-science could be sexy and profitable? Not Galilei Galileo that's for sure.

YouTube what did I do without you - Gary Sizzle

Tony Martin's brilliance is at its stumbling best in this segment from Melbourne community radio station 3RRR. As radio advisor Gary Sizzle his comedic timing is almost beyond Swiss transport system good (which is funny as the Swiss outlawed jokes after a landslide referendum in 1975).

Having spent part of my uni life around commercial radio in Brisbane, I can tell you he's speaking directly from the bible according to whatever flange-faced-moron hired (and continues to pay) Kyle Sandilands. But hey a fat goatee-encrusted ranga has to be able to afford to lease a Rolls Royce somehow.

Come to think of it I should probably send Kyle some Pink tickets.

Happy Halloween

Can't say I've ever celebrated Halloween, but the dressing up with your DT's over your pants I totally get, so I'm all for it. It is in this light that I wish you a happy Halloween the only way I know how - with the magic of Tengobalia and her leopard headdress.

I don't know why I find these videos so funny. Her face continues to be nearly as disturbing as her sweaty boobies. Watching her dance is like watching an car-crash not set in time to music. Either that or your parents having adult sexual intercourse. But hey that's what Halloween is all about scary strangers coming after you for your candy and sweaty tits.

Watching this I think I finally understand Dances with Wolves.

The land of the free and the money back guarantee - worst Halloween costume ever

America is a wild and wonderful place where shampoo comes by the gallon, guns are legal (and often offered up to house guests as a courtesy - true story). And yet strangely carrying your mobile phone anywhere but firmly clipped to the belt of your pants is a federal offence. One that carries the heavy penalty - a week in the audience of The View. Cripes.

Which is most likely the fate that these failed robbers will have to look forward to. The po-po pulled them over only to discover that these criminal masterminds had coloured Alicia Silverstone's Batgirl mask on their faces with permanent marker.

I mean come on. If you are going to colour your face for a disguise at least show some intellect. Buy a few extra colours and try your hand at a Spiderman, Wolverine, or a Hannah Montana mask. I know which one would be scarier for your victims.

People of Sydney: Humpy Dumpy repairman

Humpy Dumpy wears his pants high.

Whatever Works

Woody Allen is well noted for his flaws and self-indulgences, like playing himself in every film, or more recently in casting Hugh Jackman and Javier Bardem to play him. I mean Jackman isn't even married to his own daughter. In fact I think Debra Lee Furness is actually his mother.

But in a welcome return to form (and more realistic self-casting in the ever acerbic Larry David) Whatever Works, well, works. That is of course unless you were the aged-pensioners sitting behind me in the Monday matinee showing. They were none to pleased with Allen's fourth-wall-breaking-direction.

Daughter marrying and reproducing or not, at least he doesn't looks as scary as Mia Farrow.

A Pirate's Bounty

I can't tell you exactly where I got this rare and valuable pirate treasure from (think mermaids, ninjas and a cantelope) but it is a gem of the deep. A piece from a Pirate's booty. A treasure long lost to mankind (alien's would've found it as they love to probe).

I'm thinking about putting this lost piece of currency on ebay. But if you want to make an offer, I'd be willing to take $8 billion or a bowl of North Bondi Italian's crab spaghetti and a wristy. You know which ever is easier for you. Let me know.

YouTube what did I do without you?

You promise, really promise to watch this?