This will hurt me...

Henry loves mashed potatoes. So I get him to mash them. I usually fancy the Dutch Cream , which is a superior Tasmanian speciality. The Dutch Cream is like the Henry and Ezra of the potato world, smooth, sexy and world class. I rank it as top of the class. However, a new pretender to the throne has emerged with the flash American-bred Innovator . This brash, yet versatile little beauty (mash it, boil it, roast it, fry it) is kind of like a plain Russet with a creamy undertone. I won't lie, it's drawn my eye. My name is Kris. I am a spudoholic.

Here you can the the little bloke crossing the vast expanses of the living room in search of water. Callously, both Henry and Jen refuse to help. I - in a rather pale imitation of the moral quandary of Kevin Carter's shocking image from Sudan in 1993 - am the photojournalist, intervening would destroy the authenticity of the shot. It's a tricky notion, the idea of objectivity and photojournalism, as I'd imagine that the presence of another person armed with a camera is going to undermine the notion of "real life just ticking along". Carter's story is well worth following up, the HBO documentary The Death of Kevin Carter: Casualty of the Bang Bang Club is one I've been wanting to see for a while.

Here's a nice Sunday image of an empty jetty down on the Sandy Bay/Battery Point border. Someone was going on the other day about music that constituted a 'guilty pleasure', and then cited three or for acts that I just consider a pleasure. So, for the record, I'd like to state that I am happy to admit that I enjoy Carly Simon's Jesse very much. Moreover, I take delight in Rick Springfield's Jessie's Girl , and happen to think that Dragon are pretty good. I can't see why any such admission would bring forth embarrassment. Do you have any guilty pleasures? Or maybe you know of people that do, but for which you carry no guilt. Feel free to share.