It's the Academy Freakin' AWARDS, Kidlets!
Oh, God, how I love it. The one time when all of the sickness and garish exploitation that is Tinseltown comes together and puts on the greatest goddam show on Earth. I live off this broadcast for an entire week after it airs.
The glamour, the red carpet, the ridiculous verbal effluent that is Joan Rivers and her little cyborg daughter. I want and crave it all.
I have my speech already written for a non-existent role in a non-existent movie. I have my imaginary limousine coming to pick me up as I drain whatever liquor is available, quaff a few Valium to smooth out the ride, and then it IS ON, y'all.
The bright lights, the posing, the little gossip commentators getting in my face with a microphone and insanely white teeth. I will wear them all down like a fierce matador aiding in the death of a dying bull.
But for now, it's about the pizza and the couch, the popcorn and the ballots. The "how could she wear that's" and the "I can't believe he just said that's" for four or five hours straight.
God Bless Us, Everyone...
posted by Stefush at 12:23 PM
4 Comments:
oh my gawd. i thought the OSCARS sucked big time. i felt like i was watching a really bad game show. besides morgan freeman, hilary swank and jamie foxx winning...zzzzzz oh and josh grobin singing, slit my wrists now!
Oddly enough, I was under the impression that all that hoopla was just to outdo Ja-Rule's latest soiree.
Which was a very slight improvement over an evening on the set of Roseanne. During the first years.
The hoopla is nothing but tapioca, Mr. MisterMister. The hoopla is in our collective minds, which were left, sadly, with our collective coats in the collective houses at which we collectively collected ourselves to watch the Awards.
Dustin Hoffman tottered bravely next to Bab'ses bosom to no avail.
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