My apologies for being shockingly lazy about posting recently. To be quite honest, what happened was that Natalie Portman was so pleased about my favourable mention of her in my 'Modern Heroes' piece the other day that she called me up and we've been sitting in a bath feeding strawberries to each other ever since. Beats working, I guess. There she is above, drying off, poor lass.
I'll be embarking to a public house this evening with a good boozehound buddy of mine to sink many a Guinness in order to be able to endure the scenario of either Cristiano Ronaldo and Wes Brown or Cashley Cole and John Terry lifting the Champions' League trophy.
Actually, pints of whiskey might be more in order.
I'll no doubt return in a less than sober state, and may decide I want to do some rambling then.
If young Natalie could just stop checking her Facebook page.
