Holy communion, cocaine and showbiz.

Tristan called in late this evening. He'd had a long day, we opened beers,opened mouths and opened hearts.

The letter to Cynthia is still a fresh bruise.

Tristan had spent the afternoon as an extra on a shoot with Marc Henri, a Belgian friend. He spent three hours being fed the body of Christ by Charles Dance in a local church. Thank god the body of Christ ain't fattening; there would be no Catholic supermodels... All those outrageous confessions lost forever.

Marc Henri asked Tristan to look more serious. He tried but when Charles intoned: 'The body of Christ and if you believe that you will believe any thing' Tristan lost it somewhat...

Oh the wacky world of showbiz eh!

Tristan had then gone on to a party in the west end, in a private members club. He said it was all too well scrubbed. There were speeches however; the restaurateur mentioned his restaurants and the BBC guy mentioned his producer.

One overheard conversation of note though:

Her: 'Do you want a line of cocaine?'

Him: 'You know, I can't be bothered'.

Suggests the drugs ain't working so well.

This reminded Tristan of something he overheard outside the Cow the other night: Three eurotrash guys were discussing where to go next. One said: 'Let's go to the Electric and see if there are some cock teasers around'. Obviously a sign that they are doing too much virtual sex. In my day you avoided cock teasers.

You do not need to make it up around here.

Oh and by the way. God couldn't get Tristan into a church but the movies could.

The film is called Fatherly love and I will naturally review it when it is released.