God, it was stressful yesterday. I don't know how I did it...I don't know how we did it...eleven of us crammed around the dining table amidst the wreckage of a huge meal, staring at each other. If they'd been sphinx like and enigmatic it might have been something, but no, this was a gallery of faces etched with the: "I'm just not following you...what does that mean" look and the "... just what are you on about..." puzzled frown.

And the interminable cross-examination. Everyone one of us up in front of the dining room jury at one point or another. We all got a grilling. We had to stand up to take it as well. I felt like a lobster writhing in the pot when it was my turn. Question after bloody question: "what did that mean.... do it again...can't work that out...again..." It was so tense.

Nor does a heavy meal and rich wine help either; that all blurs the message you're trying to put over. Your message confused...? Your response a little ragged around the edges...? A swarm of piranhas could n't have beaten us for speed when it came to rolling and mauling into these lapses. Get a hint of what it might be that someone is miming...bingo, it's in with the enhanced questioning techniques.

Miming ? Yeah... Charades...you know the guessing game. The one where you flail arms and legs like a techno raver and contort your face like you've swallowed a bucketful of raw chilis in the vain hope people will guess who or what it is you're miserably trying impersonate. That's what we were doing yesterday for nearly five hours. I'm burnt out. We were doing films. My family's pretty cosmopolitan too, so it was n't just Hollywood, it was Indie, European, Horror, Musical, Bollywood, short films no one's ever heard....and the nuclear option...the charade to wipe out all charades: Porn. It was talked about a lot all evening, but no one pressed that button. Thank God. My Debbie does Dallas impersonation will never be seen in public. Ever.