At the end of the day, I don't think Fifty Shades of Grey is something the majority of New Zealanders would consider was a family movie.
I haven't actually seen it yet but I understand that the book it's based on is a bit easier to read than Eleanor Catton's fictional novel The Luminaries.
To be perfectly honest, I don't really have time for leisure activities such as films and books although I do spend a fair bit of time looking at art. I often glance at the paintings on the walls of my house. Off the top of my head, I couldn't tell you what they were of but Bronagh says some of them are by New Zealanders and that wouldn't surprise me because New Zealand is way up there in terms of skilled craftsmen.
But what I really like to do to relax is lie back and unscrew my head till it comes loose from my shoulders and floats around the room.
I suppose it takes skill but I've been doing it for so long now that I just regard it as second nature.
Usually I just sort of float up by the ceiling but if the window's open then I'll head out for a bit of an effortless glide.
I went over the proposed site for the Sky City convention centre the other day and tried to imagine what it will look like without a top-up from the taxpayer.
One or two corners might have to be cut. It's probably not going to look as flash as it could be. To be perfectly honest it might even look like a bit of an eyesore.
But only from above. At ground level, no one's going to notice that it doesn't have a roof.
I'm as mad as hell about Fifty Shades of Grey, and I'm not gonna take it any more.
How many New Zealanders does it employ? What contribution has it made to the manufacturing sector? What's the total buy-back from GST? Will it relieve the housing crisis?
These were the questions that came to mind when I went to see Fifty Shades of Grey this week. I wasn't satisfied with the answers. I sat there clenching my fists, grinding my teeth, and kicking the chair in front of me.
Steven Joyce turned around and said, "Do you mind not doing that?"
I said, "Who the hell do you think you are, a master of the universe?"
He turned back to the movie.
His cavalier response made me mad as hell, so I stormed out of the cinema and stood on the pavement glowering with rage.
A voice somewhere above me said, "How was the movie?"
I looked up, and saw John Key's head floating past.
I wanted to wipe the smirk off his face but his head was out of reach. That made me mad as hell, so I stormed back into the cinema. Someone was in my seat. The only available chair left was next to Steven Joyce.
"I'll take it," I sighed.
All this talk about Fifty Shades of Grey reminds me that it's beholden to me to exclusively reveal to the New Zealand public that our blessed Prime Minister, the great John Key, Mr End of the Day, Honest John, the People's Friend, butter wouldn't melt in his mouth, the man you can trust, what you see is what you get, I could go on, I usually do, I've earned the right, no don't interrupt, where was I, oh yes, the truth about Prime Minister John Key, and I have the evidence, the evidence is forthcoming, the evidence will be right in front of me once I lay my hands on it, what I want to say if you'll just let me finish, thank you, is that Mr Key dyes his hair 50 shades of Grecian 2000.
He also uses it on the hair on his head.