Monday, February 26, 2007

If there was ever a case

Of pathetic whining it could be found at the intersection of Lack of Talent Street & Vicarious Living Avenue last evening following the Oscars. Diva acts are always tired, but they are intolerable in those without any discernible qualities.

It's neither Al Gore's nor Ellen DeGeneres' fault you're a pathetic loser. That is your personal responsibility.a

On a personal note I didn't do any live blogging of the Oscars because, well, I blog every fucking day, usually at least 5 or 6 posts a day. I am clearly devoid of substantial social interaction with actual human beings. For the love of all that is holy, it's just past three in the morning! But there are some lines even I, sad as I am, will not cross. And that's living five minutes of Ted Casablancadom.

Other than noticing that Nicole Kidman last night was either wearing a noose or a convenient handle, I took note of no fashion (this of course is my normal mode). I'm like most men, I check out those red carpet pre-shows partly appalled and partly to see who is the closest to being completely naked. That's right, I'm in it for the nipple exposure. Sadly, the winner last night was Martin Scorcese -- and I don't mean as best director.

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