Well, bollocks...

Gah. Hubby was in a car accident yesterday. He wasn't even moving, just sitting there waiting to turn into a right-of-way, when a girl came flying out of it and the car that tried to avoid her hit Gareth head-on. He's still getting freaky flashbacks over it. This is the car that we spent almost $7000 on last year reconditioning the engine. If they write it off, all that money (which we are still repaying) will be down the toilet. So I am mad. So is Gareth. Damn mad. So mad he sent me off to my sisters so he could vent his frustrations on the housework. Dudes. The oven has never been so clean. Scrubbed to within an inch of it's life. He even cleaned the loo! I wonder what would happen if I accidentally broke all his golf clubs...

Item the second. Australian Idol. As whitetower mentioned earlier in the week, this was the performance that blew the comp apart. Little Anthony Callea, the diminutive Italian boy who the judges dubbed Plastic Fatastic for his somewhat one-dimensional boy-band performances of R Kelley's Ignition and Robbie Williams' Angels, came onstage during the "Choose Your Own Song Night", and backed by a full orchestra, pulled this one out of the bag. I've watched it a dozen times, and I'm still getting goosebumps. How does such a big voice come out of such a little guy? And how telling is it that out of all the songs in the world, he chose Andrea Bocelli? He's my pick for this year's Idol.