Sunday, March 7, 2010

That was like watching paint do its taxes.

I can't say I care as much this year about the Oscars as I usually do. They nominated ten films for the first time, but all that did was just include more CRAP. I haven't seen all the best pic nominees and to be honest, I didn't even really try.

Everyone seems to think Sandra Bullock is a lock for The Blind Side (which oh holy jesus, I refuse to see), but I wouldn't be so surprised if Gabourey Sidibe snakes it for Precious. You know I love me some Sandy, but can she win for something that doesn't make me want to barf down my front?

Speaking of which, my friend J texted me the other week to see if I'd caught Bradley Whitford on CNN. (Why he was on CNN is beside the point, I couldn't begin to guess.) Somewhat newly divorced, apparently Mr. Whitford has decided to rock the pedophile mustache and J found it disturbing enough to send me the link. I say he lost a huge, huge bet.

Holy shit, how can Sigourney Weaver still look like she does? (She is rocking an awesome Chinese red dress, btw.) I am talking serious deals with the devil.

I'm also counting how many times Ryan Seacrest or whatever sycophantic star-fucker is on-camera to conduct the schmooze-festing says, "George Clooney."

And finally, just sayin', I want to reach into the screen and backhand every person who fawns over loving Avatar. They're a poser for lying or a tool for genuinely liking it.

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