Arthur Dent, after watching movies all night and thereafter meeting David Wenham...yes, it's a very odd game...
No. Universe? Hello. It's Arthur. Please stop it. First it was "The Price Of Milk" with more than enough of Karl's nether regions bobbing about in dairy products. And then I meet Karl.
Now it's "Better Than Sex," during which I was subjected to a pair of buttocks with dimples deep enough to lose a hand in. Actors take plastic surgery much too far, I think. Those can't be real. Not that I stared at them for unnatural lengths of time, mind you, they were simply thrust at me for my viewing pleasure. I did not just say thrust. Anyway, universe, I was talking to you. Now tell me you did not just have that, that, that walking dimple pass me in the hallways.
I am not watching any movies this evening. I shall read a book. Indeed.