Shuffled along to the West End to claim a free paperback from Borders. (There was a coupon in yesterday's Evening Standard-) It's THE TREATMENT, by Mo Hayder, and so far, seems agreeably creepy and interest-holding. Mooched down Charing Cross Road for a nose -pressed-against-the-glass session at Cass Arts, and an even more tantalising visit to he Watkins annexe in Cecil Court, where they have all the cool occult Stuff. ( I want! )
Then to the National Portrait Gallery to check out the new Awards Show...Not bad, a bit more stimulating than last years'. As usual, they didn't have postcards of the ones I liked best; the strong, strangely haunting portrait of a feisty Orla Kelly and her fine dog Sparky, by Blaise Smith , http://www.npg.org.uk/live/bpexh04f.asp#anchor32777 and the snazzy Redeye Jack Jones by Lanceford Brown. The travel award winner was very interesting, as usual.
A fucked-up looking wino laughed at me, which hurt.(Why?)
BIG BROTHER footnotes: I definitely saw it, y'know? Victor lobbed a tray, Oddjob-style at the back of Emma's bristling neck...
Slimy Dan ( that hairdo is nearly as unforgivable as Michelle's eyebrows...) actually seems to be emerging from the chaos as a pillar of sane forbearance, who was also fortunately big enough to restrain raging Emma before anyone really got deaded.