Barnacles Books

Finally this Australian children's classic is becoming available to Americans. I first read it 60 years ago and it has never lost its unusual charm. I read it to my children, enjoying together its wonderful illustrations by author-artist Norman Lindsey and its whimsical poem-songs: "It's worse than weevils, worse than warts/ Worse than corns to bear/ It's worse than having several quarts of treacle in your hair." My grandchildren are now enjoying the books (I had to order copies from Australia, and consider it wonderful that children today can more easily obtain the book). I consider it a classic of the first order--one of the greatest children's stories of all time.

Big tough talking penguins and talking never ending desserts, what more could you want? Ok, that, but this is a kids book, and one you should get if you have some (kids, that is, not talking penguins and puddings). There are the good guys, and there are the bad guys. Both are hungry, but the bad guys want to put out tasty pudding friend to nefarious ends, while the good guys just want enough dessert. Needless to say, the pudding is cantankerous.

Honestly, I'm no read-aloud wimp! And my kids are usually up for anything. They giggled like mad at the pompous puns of Mr. H.M. Wogglebug T.E. in the Oz books, and urged on my faux-Yorkshire accent in the Secret Garden. The century-old Australian slang and endless sea shanties of the Magic Pudding, though, just about did us in. It really is a magnificent flight of fancy, but there were just too many incomprehensible sentences to paraphrase and longggg songs to make up tunes for. Save this for when you're at your most daring and energetic, read-aloud parents!

The Magic Pudding is a fun-and-nonsense tale that has become my nine-year-old son's favorite book. It deserves to be published in the US so that American children can enjoy what has become a classic in Australian children's literature. If you enjoy Roald Dahl's books, "The Phantom Tollbooth," and "Alice in Wonderland" you'll enjoy this.

This book is part of the wonderful new series of republished children's books from the New York Review of Books. Over 80 years old, "The Magic Pudding" describes the adventures of a koala bear, named Bunyip Bluegum - the kind of koala who wears a high collar and spats - who falls in with a crazy cowboy sort of fellow named Bill Barnacle and a penguin named Sam Sawnoff.

Bill and Sam are possessed of a magic pudding (named Albert, if you can believe this), who regenerates every time you take a bite of him and changes into whatever flavor you like. Albert the pudding is much coveted by two evil villains who are constantly tricking our Heroes into giving up the Pudding, whereupon they must go and re-re-re-rescue it.

The characters and style are very reminiscent of "Alice in Wonderland," with Bunyip seeming a little White-rabbitish to me, and Bill and Sam sort of Mad Hatter and Dormouse-y. The effect is somewhere in between "Alice" and an old Loony Tunes in which Bugs Bunny constantly bewilders Elmer Fudd.

The whole narrative is punctuated with many whimsical song lyrics, like the poetry in Carroll's book. The lyrics make it a great read-aloud for the younger set, although older kids might be a bit puzzled by its style. However, everyone will be charmed by the Pudding himself and want one of their very own.

I discovered this book when I lived in London about ten years ago and always end up re-reading it around Thanksgiving of every year. It's the story of 6 friends who rent a beach house as an indulgent year between college graduation and facing the "real world." When one of their number discovers he has terminal cancer, it forces the others to face up to their futures and their lives with each other and without one of their own. A brilliant book that I highly recommend!

This handsome vademecum fits the hand, pleases the eye, and informs the mind of the Joycean pilgrim searching not along the streets for Stephen Dedalus, Leopold Bloom, the denizens of Nighttown or the cast from "Wandering Rocks"-- but their engenderer in his native habitat. This parallels not only the ubiquitous electronic and print guidebooks for walkers recreating Bloom's steps, but academic maps for the fictional counterpart, the topographical dictionary by Ian Gunn & Clive Hart, "James Joyce's Dublin," (Thames & Hudson, 2004). Igoe's title speaks for itself.

Igoe, a Joyce scholar and former curator at the Sandymount museum, gives requisite passages from Joyce's fiction, period and recent illustrations, and comprehensive but not mind-numbing biographical details that guide armchair visitors as well as direct real tourists. Neil Hyslop's handsome, readable, and hand-lettered maps recall the elegant ones that used to grace endpapers of historical hardcovers. They are easy to consult, spare enough not to be cluttered with extraneous information, and large enough to be accurate and not merely decorative.

A new version expanded to 208 pp. (shown here, Lilliput Pr.) appeared in June 2007 but I haven't seen it, nor is it listed for sale on Amazon US. I review the 1997 version; I judge that the basics in the older edition should remain the same. Perhaps URLs & updated transport data are added for the itinerary supplement that carefully leads you around by bus to Joyce's Dublin houses, each residence given a few pages per biographically organized chapter, and their environs.

I'm a life long Joyce fan and I have to admit that I enjoyed this life of Jim's wife (only she could call him Jim!) Nora even more than I did the three volume Ellman biography of Joyce himself. In fact, Joyce fans will probably learn more about Joyce's writing by reading about his wife than about him. This is one of the most outstanding biographies I have ever read -- it's fascinating to learn how Joyce used Nora's every utterance somewhere in his works even though she herself never read Ulysses.

The book is a quick read about the life of South Florida pioneer Ralph Munroe and his family. For me it is interesting because I live near Ralph Munroe's homestead, now a Florida state park called The Barnacle. But to others, the story of Ralph Munroe and his family appeals on a different level. The timeless values of the man and the way they have endured in his family are something of universal appeal. This book may also appeal to sailing afficionados interested in learning about Munroe, who was an early proponent and proliferator of the Sharpie style of sailboats, as well as being the Commodore of the Biscayne Yacht Club.

This book is a good introduction to Joyce. It is written with a real feel for his language and life. It is not the overwhelming biographical scholarship of Ellmann, nor the detailed reading of the text much academic scholarship gives.It is however a competent and at times especially insightful look into the tribulations of the writer's life As part of the popular Penguin series in which Writers tell of the lives of other writers, O'Brien focuses on what most interests her.She talks about the insult of the Joyce family's poverty , and what it meant for them to go down from a kind of bourgeois life to one of great neediness. She writes about Joyce's love life and she tells the story of his infidelities and his complicated relationship to his wife Nora without going into each particular incident at length. She has an interesting few pages on reader reaction to ' Ulysses' including Virginia Woolf's comment calling it ' underbred, the effort of a ' queasy undergraduate scratching his pimples' In this work O'Brien often generalizes insightfully about the writer's condition in general, maintaining controversially that the more dedicated the writer is , and the more capable of seeing into the feeling of others on the page, the more monstrous the writer becomes in life. She compares Joyce's lonely end with that of Tolstoy, O'Neill, Virginia Woolf and Dickens. She says ,"A writer and especially a great writer, feels both more and less about human grief, being at once celebrant, witness and victim. If the writing ceases or seems to cease the mind so occupied with the stringing of words is fallow.There was nothing he(Joyce at the seperation from Nora) admitted but rage and despair in his heart, the rage of a child and the despair of a broken man." p. 176
She also provides very fragmentary but good analysis of Ulysses, explaining the stylistic genius of the ' Oxen in the Sun episode ' where Joyce parodies and rewrites the history of the English language stylistically.
It is light and quick reading , a good glance at the great man's work and life.

Biographies in this series are the perfect fun size. Light, but long enough to have a lot of real stuff in them, more than a mere introduction.

The very first sentence of this book invites you into Joyce with an imitation of his writing style, & after that Edna O'Brien shares generously & mellifluously her great understanding of the man, his life, & his work, drawing on scholarly commentary of his books & from the journals & letters of him & the people around him so that you know how they all felt about his life & their lives in themselves & for the purposes of this biography in relation to him. It's so well-written & so interesting -- what a life he had, crazy as he was, that -- I could hardly put it down. Edna O'Brien's great interest in him comes across truly.

I read this book at the Jersey shore. Joyce's life was as bizarre as his fiction. This book gives you an insight into what Joyce was trying to do with "Ulysses" and later "Finegan's Wake." Of course, the Ellmann bio is still the definitive. This is a great little read with sand and roasted peanuts.

Reading any biography of James Joyce reminds me of something that Bernard DeVoto once said to Robert Frost after the other had behaved abominably towards Archibald MacLeish on several occasions in the space of a few days: "Robert, you are a great poet, but a bad man." What can the biographer do with Joyce? Was he a great writer? His astonishing literary genius is completely beyond debate. But he was almost completely lacking in humane qualities, and it isn't clear that he was capable of any relationship with any human being surpassed the value a tool had for its user. There are other equally unpleasant figures in the history of literature, but not many, and I've yet to read a biography of Joyce that creates the suspicion that meeting him might have been a positive experience. In fact, for me reading about Joyce's life has in ways acted as an impediment to appreciating his books. The difficulty is that he stuffs so much of his own experience into his books that the reader is forced to know at least the rudiments. Indeed, both PORTRAIT OF THE ARTIST AS A YOUNG MAN and ULYSSES feature his alter ego Stephen Hero as the/or a major character.

If any biography of Joyce is the biography of a morally repulsive individual, there is at least the consolation of his being repulsive on an epic scale. If Joyce is not a human being we can admire as a person, as opposed to a literary genius, he is as least an interesting brute. He fascinates with his utter lack of compunction in his use and misuse and abuse of others. It leads to the question of what personal qualities made it possible for him to mistreat so many people. Unfortunately, O'Brien does not help us discover this. In fact, I find that in her treatment of his life, Joyce the human being doesn't emerge in any detectable way. I ended the book without much of a sense of how he might have seemed if I had encountered him on the street. Instead, O'Brien's Joyce feels very much like a character in a novel. He seems unembedded in his world, partially exacerbated by O'Brien persistent failure to relate Joyce to any social or historical events. She rarely dates events, and often goes twenty or thirty pages without noting a specific date. For instance, very little dating is provided in conjunction with the obscenity trial in New York. If the book contained a chronology at the front or back of the book this might not be so unfortunate. This is important because other writers at approximately the same time were also facing censorship trials, such as D. H. Lawrence for THE RAINBOW, so Joyce's case was not an isolated incident. She also left so much out! She neglects, for instance, to mention that Joyce and Proust once shared a cab ride. Perhaps not a crucial moment for either writer, but given that in the English speaking world Proust and Joyce are widely regarded as the two literary giants of the 20th century, while internationally Joyce is considered second only to Proust one would have expected some acknowledgement of their encounter. So many details like this are excised from Joyce's story. The book also suffers by a complete lack of critical tools. As noted above, there is no chronology, but there is also no index and not much of a bibliography. These are lacks that detract from the book's overall usefulness.

Where O'Brien excels is when she writes about the books themselves. Although I did not feel like I gained much insight into Joyce (that Joyce was a world-historical jerk is simple to document, but the intricacies of why he was and why people let him get away from it was largely untouched upon), O'Brien the novelist did a marvelous job of illuminating many aspects of the books themselves. Although she does not write exhaustively about any of Joyce's works, every passage she writes shimmers with understanding and insight.

In one sense there is no overwhelming need for any new biography of James Joyce. Richard Ellmann's magisterial biography is not merely the finest book on Joyce, but arguably the finest English-language literary biography of the past half century. Given the large bulk of Ellmann's work, however, a solid brief biography is, however, highly desirable. I am not confident that O'Brien's book meets this need. The tone is far too impressionistic, the attention to historical and chronological detail too slight. I can recommend this to readers of Joyce who want to know a bit more about him, but I hope that someone writes a new biography sometime in the next few years.

This is one of several volumes in the Penguin Lives Series, each of which written by a distinguished author in her or his own right. Each provides a concise but remarkably comprehensive biography of its subject in combination with a penetrating analysis of the significance of that subject's life and career. I think this is a brilliant concept. My only complaint (albeit a quibble) is that even an abbreviated index is not provided. Those who wish to learn more about the given subject are directed to other sources.

When preparing to review various volumes in this series, I have struggled with determining what would be of greatest interest and assistance to those who read my reviews. Finally I decided that a few brief excerpts and then some concluding comments of my own would be appropriate.

On Joyce and Ireland: "Of all the great Irish writers, Joyce's relationship with his country remains the most incensed and yet the most meditative. Beckett, a much more cloistered man, was unequivocal; he made France his home and eventually wrote in French and though his elegiac works carry the breath of his native land, he did not expect Foxrock, his birthplace, to be etched in the consciousness of the world. Joyce did. He determined to reinvent the city where he had been marginalized, laughed at and barred from literary circles. he would be the poet of his race." (page 15)

On criticisms of his portrayal of Dublin: Joyce "said he was not to be blamed for the odor of ash pits and rotted cabbage and offal in these stories [i.e. in Dubliners] because that was how he saw his city. 'We are foolish, comic, motionless, corrupted, yet we are worthy of sympathy too,' he laughed haughtily and added that if Ireland were to deny that sympathy to its characters, the rest of the world would not. In this he was mistaken." (page 78)

On his deteriorating health: "The strains were beginning to show. he had endocrine treatment for his arthritis, had to have all his teeth removed and was fitted with permanent plates. His eyesight so worsened that he had only one-seventh normal vision. He was given iodine leeches for his bad eye but soon it was clear that they would have to operate." (page 130)

On his enigmatic nature: "The truth is that the Joyce [others] saw was a fraction of the inner man. No one knew Joyce, only himself, no one could. His imagination was meteoric, his mind ceaseless in the accruing of knowledge, words crackling in his head, images crowding in on him 'like the shades at the entrance to the underworld.' What he wanted to do was to wrest the secret from life and that could only be done through language because, as he said, the history of people is the history of language." (pages 165-166)

As is also true of the other volumes in the "Penguin Lives" series, this one provides all of the essential historical and biographical information but its greatest strength lies in the extended commentary, in this instance by Edna O'Brien. She also includes a brief but sufficient "Bibliography" for those who wish to learn more about Joyce. I hope these brief excerpts encourage those who read this review to read O'Brien's biography. It is indeed a brilliant achievement.

An amazing story of Helen Barnacle who gave birth to her daughter in prison after being convicted of drug smuggling to support her habit.
This story gives an insight into to mind of a drug addict, and tranports you into the world of the Australian Penal system for women.
A great story about rising out of the depths after hitting the absolute rock bottom.

Definately one of the best books i have ever read. Once i picked it up i couldnt put it down. An inspiration to all mothers, drug addicts or simply anyone that is going through a rough patch. You've gotta read it.

This is the perfect companion to Richard Ellmans bio of JJ. I first read it when it came out a few years ago and I found it to be a good "other side of the story". Much has been made of Joyce's letters to his wife and of her being the model for Molly Bloom. He must have been a happy man if that was the case. She was all woman.

The story of Nora and James Joyce's unconventional relationship and how it shaped the writings of one of history's most controversial authors. This book is nothing short of riveting, both in terms of the story it is telling and the way it is told. It explores the influence Nora held over Joyce in his life and his writing and gives countless examples of how he used the experiences of those around him in his books. More than anything, this is the story of a woman struggling to hold her life and her family together in the face of hardship after hardship. A truly incredible read that I couldn't put down until the last page - I even read the bibliography!

Charles Darwin's contribution to science looms ever larger, as his work on evolution continues to be confirmed as elucidating the foundation of life on Earth. His account of his travels on the _Beagle_ are still enjoyed by readers looking to see how he began his insights, and his writings on the evolution of species and humans are of course well known and epochal. Less appreciated these days is that Darwin did not always write on the big subject, but he disciplined himself by writing on the small. In _Darwin and the Barnacle: The Story of One Tiny Creature and History's Most Spectacular Scientific Breakthrough_ (Norton), Rebecca Stott has taken one important aspect of Darwin's long career, with the idea that the barnacles, in many ways, were the making of Darwin as a scientist. Much of this information is not particularly new and is covered, though in less depth, in the many Darwin biographies. However, Stott's attention to Darwin's barnacle work, his family issues of the time, and his growth as a biologist focuses welcome attention on an important part of his life and career.

After his return from the _Beagle_ voyage (and his first collection of a barnacle specimen), besides writing up his journals and discoveries from his voyage, Darwin formed his first ideas about the origin of species and evolution. He wrote up his ideas, but refrained from publishing; he not only knew how controversial evolution would be, but he realized he needed to issue these ideas after having more basic biological knowledge. So for eight years, from 1846 until 1854, Darwin worked on barnacles. He had to dissect hundreds of them under the microscope. He had to work with both the adult forms and the free-swimming larval forms. He corrected misconceptions and made startling discoveries about their sex lives. As a result, his eventual volumes on barnacles were the sum of all knowledge in the field, and continue to be used by specialists. His home in Kent became the world capital of barnacle studies, with specimens and scientific visitors constantly coming in and out. He gained new ways of writing in scientific jargon, but also ways of carefully building up an argument, using his own doubts on an issue to gather evidence to present a solution. He gained first hand knowledge of zoology and embryology. He had a firmer concept than almost any biologist of what a species was, and what the relationship between species was. Natural and sexual selection, ever on his mind, were confirmed in his studies on all the myriad variations of the humble barnacle. After his eight years toiling among the _Cirripedia_, he began his work on his _Origin_, and it was a grander and more confident work than it would have been had barnacles not been his companions all those years.

Stott's accomplished retelling of the barnacle stories is accompanied by descriptions of Darwin's extensive medical problems over the same years, and his treatment by a quack's "water cure." There are stories about his visit to the Crystal Palace with his family. There are also accounts of his loving relationship with his wife, and his exemplary capacity as a father. These years also included the sad death of his beloved daughter Annie. Most important, however, is how the barnacle years transformed Darwin. While he is reviled by many because of his clash with their religious opinions, Stott has concentrated on the celebrated characteristics of Darwin the scientist as formed and manifested by his laborious conquest of an uncontroversial corner of natural history. She has done students of Darwin the service of showing how important he was for the barnacle, and how very important the barnacle was for his scientific development.

This book has several problems, the most noticeable one being that it doesn't even live up to its own subtitle- "The Story of One Tiny Creature and History's Most Spectacular Scientific Breakthrough." I think that, based on that subtitle, it is a reasonable assumption that the book is going to link Darwin's study of barnacles to his theory of evolution by natural selection. Well, I read all 261 pages of this book and let me state categorically that the author never makes the connection. We get a lot of information about barnacles, no doubt about it. We find out about barnacles that secrete their own shells, barnacles that burrow into other creatures' shells, barnacles that attach themselves to flesh, etc. We also get to know about hermaphroditical, bisexual, and unisexual barnacles. But the author never goes into specifics regarding why these variations developed, nor does she explain how the study of barnacles helped Darwin to further develop, or fine tune, "History's Most Spectacular Scientific Breakthrough." (A debatable assertion, by the way, but hyperbole in modern publishing is so prevalent that I guess we're not supposed to take these things too seriously.) I kept reading and reading and said to myself that the author must have a purpose in barraging us with all of this barnacle minutiae. Must be she'll have a chapter near the end where she'll explain the specific biological/environmental reasons for the variations and show how this helped Darwin to clarify his thinking. Well, sorry to say there is no such chapter in the book. It was sort of like reading a mystery and the author never tells you how the detective solved the crime. Another problem that this book has is that the narrative flow is disturbed by some very bizarre analogies. If you think that I might possibly be going overboard with my choice of the word bizarre, consider the following: a developing fetus in Emma Darwin (Charles's wife) is compared to a barnacle attaching itself to a host; and Charles undergoing an examination of his stomach is compared to a dissected barnacle being studied under a microscope. There are many more examples scattered throughout the book. All of them made me wince. So, does this book have any saving graces? Yes, it does. We learn about what an incredibly hard job Darwin took on when he decided to devote years of his life to studying barnacles, due to the seemingly endless variations he encountered, not to mention the problems involved in dissecting and studying such tiny creatures (even though I just mentioned it). We learn that Darwin didn't work on his own: he corresponded with many other naturalists, some who would generously loan him barnacle specimens and fossils from their own collections. He also had people all over the world gathering barnacle specimens for him, which they would send to him by post. In this case, as in so many others, the myth of the lone genius working in seclusion is shown to be just that- a myth. Ms. Stott is also careful to balance Darwin the scientist and Darwin the man- we learn about his self-doubts, health problems, and of his relationship to his wife and numerous children. Unfortunately, none of this is sufficient to overcome the problem of an author not accomplishing what she set out to do. Cruel as it might sound, you'd be much better off reading any collection of essays by Stephen Jay Gould.

Read 'Darwin and the Barnacle' as a prequel, if you will, to Darwin's 'Origin of Species'. It was Darwin's work on barnacles that prepared him for 'Origin'--the one book for which he will be eternally known, and wherein he articulated his theory of species evolution by natural selection.

Following Dava Sobel's 'Longitude,' the past few years have provided us with a flood of books on the theme of "the lone man of genius and his scientific discovery that changed the world." With rare exceptions, however, many of these have been less than profound or failed to make the case for the true relevance of their topic. Stott's 'Darwin and the Barnacle,' however, is a fine exception, and a book of a wholly different order. She forgoes the typical formula (misunderstood scientific hero fights haughty, blinkered scientific establishment to prove out his discovery that is destined to change the world). Instead, Stott's story provides a balance between exceptional narrative (the drama of scientific discoveries that truly do change the world, after all, makes great subjects for narrative), and solid, informed research.

Best of all, Stott avoids the "lone scientific genius" syndrome, by demonstrating that Darwin, as he worked on his barnacles, became the center of a world-wide scientific network that took advantage of nineteenth-century social and technological advances (a postal system, railways), institutional developments (burgeoning scientific societies, and scientific professionalization), and European imperialism (colonized outposts, and voyages of scientific discovery).

History of science is too often either popular (though shallow) drama, or thorough (though impenetrable) scholarship. `Darwin and the Barnacle' is the best of both worlds, with the pitfalls of neither. Substantial and entertaining, well written and well researched.

Stott brings Darwin to life! An extraordinary story, so well crafted it brings a wonderful sense of humanity to the history of science. Primarily, `Darwin and the Barnacle' brings into focus the central essence of Darwin as a human being. It presents Darwin's raw excitement with life, seemingly ignited while strolling studiously (almost romantically) along the foreshores. Which in turn encouraged him to undertake his famous tour of discovery upon the Beagle.

The sensitivity of the author helped develop in me an understanding of and interest in Charles Darwin as a person. I was moved by learning more about the man and how he lived his life; by the grief he experienced as his beloved daughter died, how his wife and he read to one another, about his ill health, his day to day activities and about his dedication if not dogged determination of his scientific observations.

In reading this book I came to understand how much time and energy Darwin dedicated in undertaking his labourious investigations into barnacles, how this hard work paved the way for honing his monumental work on the `Origin of the Species'. Yet for me it is not a defence of evolution, but rather its Darwin who is placed under the microscope. It was literally as if Stott breathed life back into Darwin - which suddenly took on more importance than the revolutionary achievements that he is so well regarded for. `Darwin and the Barnacle' is a great book I only wish I had read this book when I was a geological student.

I was prepared to really like this book. It is centered on Darwin's study of barnacles and their contribution to his evolutionary thinking. In some ways the author sort of got there, but along the way she often got off the track and uses some strange analogies in the process. There were several typos that were disturbing. Perhaps the worst is that we are told on page 21 that the marine segmented worm Aphrodita aculeata has stinging hairs (it does not! - see Sue Hubbell's excellent book "Waiting for Aphrodite"), and that it is parasitic (it is a carnivore, as Hubbell also noted). In stating that Aphrodita has stinging hairs Rebecca Stott was repeating an error that has come down to us through a book published in 1558 by Rondelet! Also "aculeata" does not mean, "stinging", but spiny! One would think that by now this misinformation would not continue to be repeated. However, the main problem is that the author rambles a bit too much and covers a lot of ground not pertinent to the subject. In fact she covers a lot of the ground in regard to Darwin's personal problems that is better explored in several other recent books. This is not a fatal flaw, but the book would have been more original if the focus had been kept on the barnacles rather than on background material that nearly every biographer of Darwin has investigated. As for the book being "lavishly illustrated," I am wondering what the writers of the dust jacket blurb meant! I would not have described it in that manner at all! Maybe "adequately illustrated" would have been better!

This book is worth reading and does give us some of the details left out of other books on Darwin, but the author has not answered the questions about Darwin's barnacles I would have liked to have had answered.

Barnacle Bill the Spacer : Barnacle Bill the Spacer - Lucius Shepard
Barnacle Bill the Spacer : A Little Night Music - Lucius Shepard
Barnacle Bill the Spacer : Human History - Lucius Shepard
Barnacle Bill the Spacer : Sports in America - Lucius Shepard
Barnacle Bill the Spacer : The Sun Spider - Lucius Shepard
Barnacle Bill the Spacer : All the Perfumes of Araby - Lucius Shepard
Barnacle Bill the Spacer : Beast of the Heartland - Lucius Shepard

Brainless boy blows up because space station sucker beasts despise coming crazed cult conflict in C.

4 out of 5


Music zombies.

2.5 out of 5


Programmed postapocalyptic people enact punitive pogrom on decadent twisted hi-tech hypnotists.

4.5 out of 5


Baseball arguments, with guns.

2.5 out of 5


Sunbeast seeker shags separately from spouse, summons super maths.

3 out of 5


Four legs an eye and an ear to be the six million dollar pair.

3.5 out of 5


Boxing tart.

3 out of 5