2004-03-29 - 4:13 p.m.

On Friday, my dentist fitted a crown onto my tooth with all the grace and manners of a Hippo trying to put on a condom. I�m glad this minor piece of cosmetic dental work is done, but the new shape of my tooth has subtly mutated my oral cavity, and it feels like I�m trying out someone else�s mouth for a while. I can�t imagine this being a good thing in any scenario, unless of course, I could auto-fellate, in which case I wouldn�t be wasting time typing this shit.

As everyone knows, variations on self-abuse are widely employed, simply because such a repetitive task demands the odd nuance to keep it, uh, fresh. The adolescent playground was, naturally, a hotbed of gossip about masturbatory techniques, it being the sole sexual outlet for everyone except the guy who claimed to be �having it off� with the ceramics teacher and a girl called Alison who would seemingly let you do just about anything if you happened to own a motorbike. By �you�, I obviously don�t mean �me�. I mean tall surly youths who had left the school several years earlier but still hung around the grounds because there really wasn�t anything else to do.

The classic rumour was that if you sat on your hand, it would go numb and then when you sought to pleasure yourself, it would �feel like someone else was doing it�. This was, of course, the least convincing argument for sexual exploration since Moses, and I can honestly say I never did try it. By the time you�ve sat on your hand and numbed it up, you can have the whole procedure over and done with via conventional means and be going about your business, which admittedly in those days did tend to focus around how and when you could next beat off.

I promise you I haven�t given the subject as much thought as it might otherwise appear, but I thought the logical extrapolations of the numbing technique could be to sit on your genitals (it feels like you�re doing it to someone else) or to sit on your partner�s hand (it feels like someone else is doing it only they have no idea at the time). There are no conceivable practical applications to these practises, but then that doesn�t usually stop people.

Moving swiftly on, I�m in cinephilia mode at the moment, recent highlights including last night�s TV showing of �In This World� (slightly grim but interesting film about Afghani refugees) and �Zatoichi� (uber-stylish Samurai drama, which really kicks Kill Bill�s ass, but about one millionth of the number of people will see it, not that I�m saying I�m special in any way, but it�s just a shame and if you get the chance, go). Tonight I�m going to The Passion of The Christ because I have a free pass and it looks ridiculous. I�ve heard it�s all-action, so I fully expect to see Jesus C firing loaves and fishes out of his turbo-powered arse at those nasty Roman centurions. Passion Power! (My favourite review headline so far is �Pulp (Cruci)Fiction�)

I think definite articles in front of your name add authority, too, so from now on I want to be The Pablo.