Fangs very much

Given the choice of any film in London, for reasons utterly beyond my comprehension my lovely if eccentric friend F. chose The Twilight Saga 2: New Moon.


I am prepared to confess to a bat-squeak of desire for Robert Pattinson's pasty vampire, largely on the (flimsy) strength of his wispy chest hair (though that in itself is cause enough for celebration in this shaven age):


But my friend F. assured me it was the presence of entirely different totty that had, er, pricked his interest:


Now, don't get me wrong: I am prepared to concede that Taylor Lautner (for it is he) is very athletic indeed:


Indeed, I might go so far as to say that Taylor is positively buff:


But, as I was ogling the naked flesh of this stud-puppy (the camera -- or possibly the cameraman and director -- rarely looked anywhere other than close-ups of his rain-spattered flesh), I couldn't help feeling as if I were an unwilling participant in spoof Channel 4 paedophile programme Kiddy Stare:


For Taylor is so very young.

F. was unabashed, pointing out that someone so pumped was obviously demanding our attention; that it would be cruel and unnatural to withhold it; and that, anyway, Taylor was probably A Gay, so would automatically be flattered by the attentions of two pervy queers on the wrong side of middle age.


I have no evidence that Taylor is, indeed, A Gay, beyond that solitary photograph showing that he throws like a girl (in my experience a surefire clincher when it comes to spotting, er, us).


Otherwise the film was dull as ditchwater. How can anyone make a vampires/werewolves movie dull? These people clearly have some sort of talent, but I don't think I can take much more of teens staring wistfully into each other's eyes and, uh, not doing anything else.

There are, after all, limits, even for a perve like me.