We are prepping- I blog, Bu hits le bong- for a quick brunch of coffee and biscuit sandwiches before the matinee. I'm bracing for a dizzying array of emotions about Heath's performance, the orgasmic pairing of Maggie G & Mr. Bale, and my unmitigated awe-squee that my favorite director from the dusty indie VHS copy of Following from my video shop clerk days is a bazillionaire blockbuster-making dude now. So few of those guys are this talented, in my snarky opinion. Salon disagreed but made a lot of Hitchcock comparisons so they lost me as I've not seen enough Hitchcock to know. Or to care. I just think he fucking rules, and that's that.
OK: food now.
*edit* (For to add linkies and correct "The Following" to "Following.")