Bugger

Was woken from slumber Saturday by a 9am phone message from an MCV contributor, dumping the two interviews they were supposed to conduct that afternoon back in my lap. Bugger. There are two direct outcomes from this event.

1. No Golden Plains for me this weekend, alas.

2. Spot the freelancer who won't be assigned any more work.

On the plus side, I had a lazy evening with the flat to myself, watching DVDs from Mike's collection: Shallow Grave (didn't really work for me) and Michael Mann's poised and polished Manhunter. Such icy precision, such striking cinematography, such a bad 1980s synth soundtrack. A taut, tense and extremely effective thriller, this forerunner to The Silence of the Lambs features Brian Cox's subtle take on the villainous Hannibal Lecter (above), and in the words of Slate magazine film critic David Edelstein, "sired CSI and...ushered in the age of empathy for the devil."

Damn enjoyable film. As was the bottle of red I worked through while I was watching it.

As an aside, why did no-one warn me of the dangers of drunken texting? Grog-blogging is bad enough, on my own blog or in other people's comments, but late night drunken texts? Tsk, tsk.