Good heavens, is it time for that already? No, I’m not talking about my enema or my daily valley of the dolls medication from Dr Feelgood. I am of course referring to the Baftas, one of the most exclusive nights of the year filled with glittering rich famouses who are so famous they don’t do normal things like pooing.
Last year’s event was an A List extravaganza. Except for Ruby Wax. And Jo Mott. Oh and the Fag Hag. But the F.H. was delighted this week when a Baftas 2008 stiffie slid through her box.
What the Daniel Day Lewis will I wear? Which movie star will I treat to hand relief? What will happen when I mistake Forest Whitaker and Ray Winstone for security? All this and more, from the Fag Hag, this Sunday.