Just a quick post to say you can catch me on CSI:NY tonight at 10pm on CBS. The episode,"Admissions", has the team investigating the murder of a guidance counsellor during the school prom.

Keen eyed Gary Sinise and Eddie Cahill discover a number of suspects, including a dodgy character you wouldn't want looking after your retirement fund. That fellow could be me. Or not. You'll have to tune in to find out...

It just occurred to me that you need to be quite fit to be a detective. Fitter than most cops I imagine. Why? Well look at how they're crouching - that's a deep squat, people. As an occasional body builder, I can tell you that you're gonna feel that in your quads. I would. Clearly Gary and Melina have been doing this for some time, otherwise they'd be grimacing. As I do. Whether I'm squatting or not.

CSI folks need stamina. We're talking strong thighs, lower back and above average vision to actually spot the tiny clues before you bend and squat. Unless you have an assistant. In which case you can tell your assistant to pick up the miniscule carpet fibers the murderer left behind. Yes, that sounds like a plan.

WANTED: Personal assistant to squat on command. Duties include scraping suspicious residues from unsavory surfaces, following up leads, working closely with cadavers and running DNA tests.

Hmmm. Doesn't sound like much fun at all. I think I'll stick to playing the detective or, in this case, the creep. Hey, if I get tired, I can always play the cadaver...

Coachella 08

In a rare moment of spontaneity I accepted the invite from Derek and friends Kavan and Tommy, to head through fields of windmills to the desert's musical celebration of excess called Coachella.

In 100 deg dry heat, we saw some incredible bands, including MIA, Prince, The Verve and my personal favourite, Portishead - still captivating more than a decade after their release of Glory Box. As we headed away with Prince's guitar still straining in the background, Kavan commented that people looked like zombies, staggering off in various states of trippy innebriation.


May I wish my fellow zombies a swift and gentle recovery...

Penguins and Sinise

What can be more satisfying than sharing your chocolate milk with a true friend? Even if that friend is of the stuffed and feathered variety.

I saw this (nameless) gentleman recently, snacking away while his pet penguin (also nameless) looked on. It begged more than a few questions. Was he going to feed the penguin or cruelly scoff everything himself? Does he ever bathe the bird? (It did look decidedly grubby) And, perhaps most importantly, are penguins permitted on table tops?

Whether it was too timid of its owner, in shock at the environment, or (more likely) dead, I will never know, but the penguin remained quite still and silent. More remarkable when one considers the bird had a chick to nourish. I returned to my tap-tapping on my laptop, only to look up later and find both bird(s) and keeper were gone. Perhaps they left in search of more tasty treats, fled security, or were merely a figment of my warped brain. Oh wait - the photo...

On a less intruiging note, I landed a guest starring role on CSI: New York which, coincidentally, films in LA. Less coicidentally, I played a creepy bad guy. The casting breakdown listed my role as "leathery skin and dangerous looking". A few more of these roles and I must surely be up for a Bond villain - or at the very least, "creepy bad guy" on CSI: Miami. Leads Gary Sinise and Eddie Cahill were a pleasure to work with.

Well that's my week. Now all I need is a bottle of Nesquik, a beard and a penguin...