2005-06-20 - 11:42 p.m.

New Orleans, LA.

If I had the money and access to as many replacement livers as I could ever need, I think I would buy a holiday home here. Since arriving, it�s been the usual tedious mix of lovely people, slow drinks, lazy days and blistering sunshine � enough to wear down even the best intentioned journalists. No, I�m not getting much work done, that�s for damn sure as Cajun chicken.

Shady cool cinemas are also playing an important role, and Layer Cake, Batman Begins and Crash have all been enjoyed. I thought BB was impressively dark in parts, but � Holy Asexuality! - Bale and Holmes manage to portray about as much on-screen chemistry as a test tube full of dishwater, so that�s a bit of a bat-disappointment. Crash is a great couple of hours if you enjoy feeling awkward about dislikeable characters pointing out everyone�s inner racist.

This week I�m mainly going to concentrate on lolling, with secondary attention to be paid to lounging, loafing, dozing and perhaps, if there�s time, some remedial arsing around and sitting about.

Apparently there are some people who sit about in New Orleans bars with tubas on the off chance they get asked to play in an impromptu Dixieland Jazz session. That�s what I call�brassy.