Performance anxiety.

I thought when I wrote a post that included 'Peter Jackson' and 'Russian multimillionaire gangster' that my statcounter went through the roof.

However the dusty road turns into an autobahn when the Australian Daily Telegraph mentions you. (They were also taken with Google Map's stellar directions in the last post) .

You could even find reference to the story yesterday on the front page right alongside the headline, 'My Dog Ate My G-string'.

I have to say, all this attention has made me just a little self conscious.

How clean is the joint?

Have I got my slap on?

Please don't tell me I have a bad underwear situation going on.

I was once unfortunate enough to say that just a little too loudly on a plane.

We were heading up to Fiji to do a bunch of stories after the 1999 coup, we were just getting settled in our seats when I copped an eyeful of something like this -

(Apologies to whoever owns that arse, but you come up when you do a Google search in images for 'revealing g-string').

I really didn't want to see that so I thought I would share and I said in a voice that I thought was just loud enough for just the rest of the crew to hear, 'Oh, that's a rather unfortunate underwear situation going on up there.'

It was loud enough for the rest of my team hear (they didn't thank me) - and the lady herself. She turned round to see three blokes staring at her rear (I was looking sheepishly at the ground by this stage).

And she wasn't totally happy with it,which you can understand. If looks could freeze beads of sweat from ten metres, we would have been four iceblocks by the time we got to Nadi.

That's my morning talk.

As I've said before, you get the big news here.