It's just that, given advance warning that our esteemed Parliamentarians would be taking up acres of news print with their. ..er...debate on the Budget, Hester decided to take a well-earned cruise.

But she was back in time to catch the Fight Night III March Madness boxing bout at Number One Shed on Saturday night.

Alas, while Hester was more than impressed with the sculptured torsos that appeared in the ring, one aspect of the baying crowd's behaviour left her a little punch drunk.

For those of you unfamiliar with such a spectacle, it is customary on these occasions for a glamorous, scantily-clad young woman to parade around the ring at the beginning of each round holding a placard announcing which one it is.

(My male fight fan friends -- who are obviously not good counters -- insist there's nothing more appealing than a spot of overt sexism to break up the monotony of watching a blood bath.) Sadly, one of Saturday night's ring girls was, well, let's just say that one of my companions described her as "no lightweight''.

As soon as the poor girl stepped into the ring she was greeted by a barrage of boos and hisses.

To make matters worse, the DJ then decided to play a song over the public address system -- the Baha Men's `Who Let the Dogs Out'.

The poor lass left the ring never to reappear for the whole evening.

In a sign of sisterly solidarity Hester here and now challenges the detractors to go three rounds with her in the ring -- if they think they're man enough.

Hester knows that her reporter friends are not always that popular in the House of Assembly, so our politicians -- on both sides of the House -- had a chance to enjoy the discomfort of a Royal Gazette hackette last week.

Business reporter Mairi Mallon , who had never previously had the pleasure of covering the scintillating verbal jousts at the House before, was unaware of the protocol of Parliament. So with nature calling, she thought nothing of crossing the floor to use the little girls room.

Unaware that it is a cardinal sin for anyone other than MPs and the clerk to the House to wander across the floor, she headed for the exit, only to be greeted by anguished cries and jeers from both sides.

Red-faced she retreated, and had to be led around the back of the Chamber.

Lesson learned, Mr. Speaker.

What have Governor Thorold Masefield , golfing great Tiger Woods and bad boy rapper Marshall Mathers, aka Eminem, have in common? On the face of it not much. Or at least that was the case until the Good Gov.

decided to show off his love of African culture recently.

Mr. Masefield got into the spirit of things at last month's `Harambee' celebration at St. Paul's Centennial Hall, where he and wife Jennifer appeared in full African regalia.

Nothing wrong with that you might think, particularly as the Good Gov. is well-known for wearing his Afro-phile heart on his Kente cloth sleeve.

The subsequent picture which appeared on the front page of The Gazette did not go by unnoticed by social activist Rolfe Commissiong , who wryly observed: "You know that the world is totally upside down when the world's greatest golfer is black, the world's best rapper is white, and the Governor of Bermuda is an African!''