I had other stuff to talk about that was more important in my world, so I make
no apologies for any of this other than the fact that most of it has already
passed its expiration date. Cope.
I watched some of the Academy Award® ceremony during commercials
for the show about the devil on History Channel. (That rocked, by the way.)
These are not in any sort of order and pretty much have nothing to do with any of the actual, you know. Films.
The difference between Jon Stewart and that editorial guy from the Boston
Globe was that, although they were both trying to be clever,
only Jon Stewart actually succeeded. No, it wasn't the most exciting, the
funniest, the Best Oscars Ever, but Jon was sharp and his timing was spot-on.
The Globe writer only succeeded in proving to me, once again, that
the best features of that newspaper are its crossword puzzle and its usefulness
in lining birdcages.
The difference between Joan and Melissa Rivers is that at least Joan had
some sort of marketable talent or skill before she started getting
paid to be tedious and appalling. Melissa's only qualification for the same
job description appears to be the fact that she ... well, I'll just sit back
and let you all imagine Joan Rivers giving birth, and then we can join hands
in the Community Grossedoutedness Screamfest.
"Clooney" rhymes with "swoony." Pass the sal volatile.
Please, somebody, take Jennifer Aniston out for a cheeseburger, double fries,
milkshake, Hershey bar with almonds, and a bright blue dress. Because the
basic black says, "Ooh, check me out, I'm all corpsy."
Speaking of bright blue dresses, wasn't Salma Hayak hot?
I loved loved LOVED the fact that the March of the Penguin blokes
brought their own penguins. Also, I want one. The penguins, I mean. Not the
French blokes.
Nicole Kidman and Naomi Watts both look like someone's been mucking with
the Photoshop opacity settings.
Yes, Reese Witherspoon was beautiful and sweet. Yes, I loved that she thanked
her grandmother. Yes, I thought it was intensely classy that she paid homage
to June Carter Cash in her speech. And yes, I thought she went on too long.
That's it. Move on with your lives. Oh, wait — you already did.
drinking: tea
listening to: Rammstein, Barbie Girl (cover, obviously)
la boutique: really is almost ready
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