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We were supposed to go hot air ballooning today but it was cancelled again because it's too breezy. My Phileas Fogg is going to have to wait. (I was going to say 'Richard Branson impression' but the thought was too horrifying, and not only because of the prospect of crashing.) I guess that means we'll have to stay in and watch X-Factor instead. I can't help it - I'm addicted again, even though that F***wit Louis Walsh chucked out little 16-year-old James, who clearly deserved to win. I don't like any of the other contestants, although I have a soft spot for Chico, the lunatic Ricky Martin-on-speed-a-like who jumped into a pool with a live mike. Last year I recall ranting about how much I hated Sharon Osbourne, but Louis is now my least fave by far. Of course he picked all the boys who might have made it into Boyzone if they'd been prepared for a stint on his casting couch. Horrid, creepy little man.

So we head off to Miami on Tuesday. I've decided not to take my laptop because I don't want to obsessively check my emails while I'm away. However, if I make it near a computer I might post on here. Otherwise I'll be back in two weeks with lots of pictures of me with Will Smith and Don Johnson.

One final thing - Arctic Monkeys are going to be bigger than Oasis. I know I'm not being totally original saying that, but they're brilliant, and they deserve everything that's coming their way.
posted by Mark at 1:52 PM