I went and saw the movie King Kong.

Sort of had to, really.

There actually exists a law that states that as soon as any Kiwi becomes world famous for any random thing, all other New Zealanders must support them and point out to all foreigners that That Famous Person is a New Zealander.

Which is why I was pissed off when Kiwi golfer Michael Campbell won the US Golf Open last year.
Golf. Ack. I hate golf, and now I’m forced to watch TV news highlights of every game he plays.

The statutes work the opposite way too, though. Should a New Zealander do anything that makes them world infamous *cough* Russell Crowe *cough*, then we must instantly insist that they are not, in fact, a New Zealander and, if pushed on the matter, simply say that they come from Australia. And then walk away.

Fortunately, I like Peter Jackson.
And I also like Hobbits and … what the hell … any movie where two naked chicks share a bath.

(Although I personally believe his work has never been finer than when he blew up a sheep with a rocket launcher.)

Anyway, so I saw the monkey movie.

It was quite the visual experience.
Although I was a little confused when I saw Golem in it. But no Frodo.

But what the fuck – a girl climbs to the top of the Empire State Building in Stiletto Pumps and doesn’t fall off?

Oh.
Hope I didn’t spoil the ending.

The monkey dies, anyway.

Sorry, almost forgot: Film-maker Peter Jackson is a New Zealander.

Yay, I got to talk to an imaginary friend today!

Well, that’s sort of what this internet blogging thing is like, right? It’s sort of real, but it’s not really real and until I actually meet one of you in person, I can’t be sure you’re real.

And getting a phone call from one of you is sort of more real than fake, but it still has an element of Talking To The Voices In Your Head about it.

Anyway. It was fantastic talking to you, Lisa.

And I wasn’t put off by the fact that you didn’t in any way sound like Eric Cartman. But that’s probably cos you do the odd audio post and I knew what you sounded like.