As we may have mentioned already, last night hecklerspray got to report from the red carpet at the 2009 BAFTAs.

And, it’s fair to say, we were rubbish. Thanks to a mixture of horrible weather, a position on the BAFTAs red carpet directly opposite all the real journalists and our own genuinely backwards people skills, we ended up coming away from the BAFTAs with nothing more than trenchfoot, a lack of feeling in any of our extremities and this slightly humiliating video.

We’ll have a full BAFTA report coming up in a few hours – but in the meantime, do feel free to revel in this visual evidence of our thundering social ineptitude.

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20:02 Baftas in summary. Freezing cold. Soaking wet. Ignored by everyone. Slumdog Millionaire wins everything. Not even drunk.

19:02 Red carpet over. Fingers so cold. But now in a room with Konnie Huq. Therefore, hecklerspray wins again!

18:39 Mickey Rourke blew past everyone. But not as fast as Shia LaBeouf. The tit.

18:35 Brangelina has arrived. People are weeping.

18:09 It’s raining so hard, people are now actually running down the red carpet. Sods.

17:56 Definite Titmuss eye contact made. Eat it, 14 year olds!

17:44 Titmuss!

17:42 Dev Patel! At FULL SPRINT. Get in.

17:34 Lots of intermittent screaming. Its a bit like a terrible sort of ghost house, this.

17:22 This is easily the least glamorous thing in the entire universe.

17:16 Winkleman looks so cold. So very cold.

17:08 Blanked by Michael Sheen. Our life is complete.

16:55 All the women look like Sharon Osbourne so far. Make of that what you will.

16:45 And it’s started to rain. Genius.

16:40 Fearne Cotton is wearing some form of dead land animal as a costume. A foolish sartorial choice, one feels.

16:26 You’ll be thrilled to know that the red carpet is surprisingly springy. Also, Claudia Winkleman just said ‘fuck’.

16:22 Deeply cold.

This Sunday the 2009 BAFTAs are taking place in London. And we’re going to be there. For you.

That’s right – unless something terrible happens in the interim, we’ll be spending Sunday afternoon pressed against a metal railing in the cold shouting at millionaires until they talk to us. And, thanks to the wonders of modern technology, you can be there too.

We’ll be Twittering the nuts off the BAFTAs red carpet experience as it happens, and you’ll be able to follow it live. Come here between 3pm and 6pm on Sunday afternoon for the liveblog, and throughout the day on Monday for reports and pictures and videos and whatever other nonsense we manage to get our hands on.

Will you join us? You’d be making an old, potentially terminally-frostbitten blogger very happy if you do.