A picture to projectile-vomit to

Seriously, I'm struggling to work out who's who here. I'd been informed that Mrs Bracken was hot, but I'm not sure I agree. Sure, her body is well-shaped thanks to a strict diet and those very obviously enhanced objects that look like they've been plonked on the front of her chest, but she has the face of a sixty-year-old from the depths of Sydney's eastern suburbs. If this were a beauty contest, I think I would be giving Bracks the winner's sash, although there's room for improvement with that haircut (which I believe is done by Mrs B).

And, golly, who designed that dress?

Just a quick one

I've been run off my feet with work of late, so I haven't had any time for blogging. The resumption of Test cricket after a short pause has helped spark this post, and I'd just like to congratulate Dale Steyn on doing what players often fail at and walking the talk by snatching a ten-fer in the first Test against India. It was brilliant, inspired bowling. Or so it seemed from the Cricinfo commentary, which as you probably know isn't the last word on accuracy and objectivity, although vastly superior to anything Channel 9 could manage to excrete.

Back in this hemisphere, Doug Bollinger is getting wickets and the West Indies are losing. I wish he'd forget how to bowl. Maybe I could bribe his mum to go to the papers with some melodrama-soap-opera story (about his wig, and how she hates that he cares more about his hair than her) and he has a mental implosion a la Mitchell Johnson. But it won't happen, because Doug's not that kind of guy.