No, wait. I lie. We watched the "Dune" feature-length TV thingies which were quite fun. Lots of pretty boys with tops off; always a bonus. I related having to ask someone what Wedge's name was yesterday when we all realised none of us actually knew his name name. But it is Wedge, apparently.

He sent me a rather naughty email which brought a terribly wicked smile to my face. Apparently, the conclusion of my boy juice experiment was correct.. I was quite happy about that.

Up to The Catcher in the evening to discover an incredibly pissed Salvador (who was just on his way home anyway), and an increasingly drunken Chris who felt the need to molest me for most of the evening - save for when paule (who really does look like a mini Jason Behr) was within groping distance - which is when I was spared. I had been pre-introduced as "lovely James" which was somewhat concerning as everyone on the table knew me without me knowing on of them. It would appear I have a bit of a reputation.

So I spent the evening sitting in The Catcher listening to Chris ranting about how I'd "stolen his shag" last night and then telling everyone how lovely I was. The dialogue got increasingly louder as he consumed more alcohol until it was more of an embarrassment than an amusement. But Dave contained him relatively well so it wasn't all that bad really.

Wedge sent me the URL to his mention of me on his website. It makes me out as some kind of hedonistic shagging machine which I'm not quite sure how to take that as I'm sure I'm not really that bad. It didn't help that everyone else was being vaguely meanie at lunch and exaggerating for effect. Ah well...