You haters! How can you not enjoy the mere presence of James Franco's likely high, ceaseless squint? He looks like a guy I used to date who, when he met my mother and I for dinner once insisted on ordering nothing but hard liquor -- flaming kamikaze shots, to be exact. But he was Russian and we were in Moscow, so this was totally acceptable and, more importantly, loads of hilarious and awkward fun -- the best kind to have. Oh, what lovely vague early-twenties memories... *sigh*
And so maybe that's why I was able to enjoy last night's Oscars; I wasn't thinking about the show that much. However, in the rare moments I was, Anne Hathaway's ridiculously awesome wardrobe and Randy Newman's acceptance speech satisfied those fleeting moments of attention. The latter item also inspired one of my only two tweets of the evening (the key is moderation) -- "The only way Randy Newman's acceptance speech could've been better is if he shortened it to "Award show speeches can suck my balls." Thank you, I'll be here all
But the real treat of the night came after the Oscars, or #oscars, as it were, when WJLA's Arch Campbell popped onto the picture box looking like a total dick...
You know, like a 1940s private eye from a noir film! Like some sort of Philip Marlowe in his detective's fedora! That guy was a dick through and through! But still not nearly as big of a dick as Campbell... For example, last night Arch boasted that he's been able to predict the big winners for two years in a row! TWO WHOLE YEARS! That must be some kind of record! Oh wait, I've been able to do it for
And please, just ignore the fact that Arch's breasts are bigger than mine. Neither of us like to talk about it...
But getting back to WJLA's coverage of the Oscars -- lol. That sh*t was hilarious. Campbell somehow deduced that Black Swan was geared toward women (did he see it?), which caused Cynee Simpson, who went in costume as a beauty pageant contestant from 1998, to pause then recover with something like, "Sure. I guess there was a lot of ballet in it." I mean, really, what the hell else can you even say to that?
More importantly, how much more of that can one person watch? Or worse, read about? And so I'll save you the rest (as I saved myself last night by flipping off network television, both with the remote and my finger), and end this post by punctuating it with an YouTube video, which I found through one of my daily must-clicks, whatevs.net. This should be a contender for best documentary film next year.