F_ll_ng _n th_ bl_nks

I didn't blog on Thursday because my wetware was otherwise engaged, computing the doability of an internal writing project CM and I were suddenly offered. Strictly hush-hush at the mo', but I can say it tangentially relates to an idea for a new rag that we pitched to the company two-plus years ago. There's been only slight progress since. If nothing comes of it, at least we scored free pub grub and pints of Kilkenny at the "business meeting".

On Friday evening my noggin was nestled in "The Elfish Gene: Dungeons, Dragons And Growing Up Strange" by Mark Barrowcliffe, followed directly by "Achtung Schweinehund! A Boy's Own Story Of Imaginary Combat" by Harry Pearson. The former's about a teenage obsession with role-playing, the latter a lifelong love of wargames. Both are deeply British, mostly humorous though in rare instances narrow-minded, 100-pages-per-hour reads.

Saturday was socialising. The M. family and I went to the Opera House Drama Theatre to see the excellent play "Ying Tong: A Walk With The Goons", which I believe does justice to the singular talents of Messrs Greenslade, Secombe, Sellers and, primarily, Milligan (it begins after Bentine). It was then a short trot to the Sir Stamford Hotel for cocktails in The Bar. Mine was called The Last Goodbye and contained cognac, brandy, Cointreau, lime and grenadine.

That night, CM, AM, PB2 and yours boastfully dined at the Churrasco ("koo-rasco") Brazilian BBQ restaurant in Coogee. For $30 a stomach, you get baked vegies, white rice, kidney beans and spiced beef/chicken/lamb/pork (steaks and snags) delivered to your table until you cry, "Mercy!" Try the Chilean red wine.

The four of us stayed up to watch the FA Cup on my 80cm idiot box as we do every time it rocks round. The 2007 coverage was atrocious - I saw more of Wembley Stadium Redux on a BBC World preview. The game was worse, leading me to dub it (hilariously) the Frankly Awful Cup. Both Chelsea and Manchester United were cautious to the point of being soporific. In the 116th minute, Didier Drogba found the net for the Blues to spare us the torture of penalties.

Two terrific pieces of telly were the highlights of my Sunday. The first was Japan's "No. 1 Athlete Competition", which my sister AC graciously records and sends me. The heavyweight division (events include tugs of war, rolling giant balls, hurling weights over walls) was won by a rikishi. An American pole vaulter took out the lightweights (activities focus more on sprinting, climbing, jumping, diving and number puzzles!).

The other great viewing was anachronistic cop show "Life On Mars" on the ABC. For fear of revealing the wrong plot detail, I'll just say I haven't been so riveted by a piece of television since...I dunno, "Twin Peaks" maybe. Immediately it was over, I jacked into Amazon UK and ordered the DVD box sets as well as the '70s rock soundtrack. That should be recommendation enough.