Sunday, March 7, 2010

Drunken Oscar Ramblings

Cheap white wine, Chinese-run Mexican takeout, holey sweatpants and Seacrest. This. Is. The Oscars. Strap in for the next eight hours, fuckers.

6:09 pm: Anna Kendrick and her small head are here. And she's wearing a flesh-colored dress. "Pink it is!" she tells Seacrest. Wait, her head might be smaller than Seacrest himself.

6:11 pm: Heyyyyy Monique. B: God, I love a big, black woman. W: Ew, but she just referened Soul Plane. Please redeem yourself soon.

6:19 pm: We have no words for Mariah Carey. She literally rendered us speechless. No, here's a word - moo. Wow, did she eat Nick Cannon? If so, it went all to her neck(s). Nope, there he is! HE JUST GRABBED HER BOOB. Can someone please call Child Protective Services?

6:25 pm: Zoe Saldana, we've loved you since Center Stage. We always knew you'd beat that blonde bitch with "bad feet".

6:27 pm: Why does Nicole Richie look like the landlord's wife from Three's Company?!

6:35 pm: Vera Formagggiwhatsyourname? Zzzzzzz...

6:38 pm: Damn that Ryan Reynolds is a tall drink of Canadian moonshine. Mlamlamlamla.

6:42 pm: B: IS THAT KEANU REEVES??!?!?! W: No, that's Tom Ford, dumbass.

6:49 pm: We want to look half as hot as Siggy Weave now, let alone at 60 or however old she is.

6:50 pm: W: Ew, Tarantino's girlfriend is atrocious! B: THAT'S KRUGER! (roles, reversed)

Apologies for the break. Needed to inhale Chinese Mexican food. Here's a quick recap of what happened while we scarfed: Sandy, we are obsessed with you and your husband and the fact that your dog's name is Cinnabun (oh right, and that he was found, but mostly for its name).

7:04 pm: Seyfriend, we're disgusted, and you just compared your dress to cellophane. Thank you for writing that for us.

7:05 pm: McGraw, there's a reason you always wear sunglasses. Take a hint.

7:08 pm: Did Seacrest just say the word "taint" around Gyylleennhhaaaall? Easy, tiger.

7:13 pm: Miley, stop trying to show your collarbones. Trust us, they're there.

7:15 pm: COLLECTIVE GAAAAAAASP. Holy fucking shit, SJP, we LOVE YOUUUUUU! Everyone, stop what you're doing and LOOK AT HER! The bun, the makeup, THE DRESS! Amazing. Unreal. Perfect.

7:17 pm: Sneak shot at Clooney getting out of that a mullet we see?!

7:18 pm: Kathryn Bigelow, director of Hurt Locker. Bigelow is right - she is towering over the Sea! Lourve it.

7:20 pm: WHAT IS THERON WEARING OVER HER BOOOOBS?! Did someone take a bridesmaid dress and hot-glued rosettes to the lady-parts? And red lipstick with purple satin? We love that you take risks, but no j'adore, mi amor.

Bottle #1 down. The next wine was purchased solely because it's called "King Shag". You're welcome.

7:26 pm: B just glazed her seat. Enter Matt Damon.

7:28 pm: And now Firth? W is officially incapacitated. Wait, now Bateman?! STOP THE MADNESS.

7:29 pm: Shankman might be a fourth of Latif's size. B: Why is she here? Did she do something for Precious? W: Why, because she's black? B: Uh, yeah. Not even accidentally racist.

7:34 pm: Of course, J-Ho is here. And of course, she's wearing a dress the size of Yankee Stadium. Pretty sure she could swaddle Marc Anthony in that a bebe.

7:38 pm: Keanue Reeves seriously needs to tell his publicist to stand the FUCK out of the shot! That horribes checkered coat and manila envelope are distracting us.

7:41 pm: Did Seacrest just ask for a "wide angle" when Sibide walked up????

7:42 pm: RDJ is ROCKING that blue bowtie. We have nothing funny to say, just that we adore him.

7:49 pm: We literally just fell asleep listening to Gerard Butler. NEXT.


7:51 pm: Sandy's dress is one-shoulder?!?!?! Stop making us love you.

Editorial Side Note: We're sorely disappointed in the lack of creativity and color on the red carpet. SO VANILLA. All we see is red, blue and monochromes. SNORE. Can a sister get a statement necklace or something? Where are Jolie's emeralds when we need them?

8:00 pm: Annnnnd now to ABC.

8:02 pm: Kathy Ireland? Really?! What dumbfuck network exec thought that that'd be a good idea?

8:09 pm: HD cameras are not a girl's best friend.

8:11 pm: OUR EARS ARE BLEEDING. Someone please tackle Ireland.

8:16 pm: First time either of us have seen trailer for Remember Me. Pants, gelled.

8:19 pm: Whoopi for Poise? EW.

8:28 pm: So happy the ABC preshow is over. That was ROUUUUUGHHHH.

8:30 pm: Snnnnnnooozy show opener. Where are Baldwin and Martin? Our daddy issues do NOT like to wait!

8:31 pm: DOOOOOOOOOOOOGIE! And a kick line? Fuck, we're dying!

8:32 pm: Wait, Baldwin and Martin aren't a part of the musical number? Wahhhh. We're bored. Billy Crystal and Hugh Jackman would have never allowed this.

8:39 pm: Yessssss a reference to The Jerk! Okay Martin, you're back...for now.

8:44 pm: Not sure what to think of that opener. Mildly amusing but disappointing.

8:45 pm: Goddamn, we want to bone Penelope Cruz. Liiiiike now.

8:48 pm: REYNOLDSSSSS. Isn't it in his contract to be shirtless in all public appearances? Isn't it? WHY AREN'T YOU SHIRTLESS?

8:56 pm: Diaz, you so crazy (and drunk).

8:58 pm: Awwwww, Ed Asner. Thanks for reminding us that old people are adorable. We tend to forget.

9:00 pm: I'm sorry, is it JUNIOR PROM?! Cyrus with Seyfriend need to go.

9:04 pm: Go T Bone, it's your birthday.

9:18 pm: MOLLY RINGWALD?!?!?!

9:20 pm: Wow, Ringwald is tweaking. No really, she's on drugs. Look at Broderick's face! He's scared. And so are we.

9:23 pm: HUGHES MONTAGE!!!!!!!!!!!!! We have no words. Except that our hearts were just ripped to shreads. Seriously, it's hard to shut us up. And it just happened.

9:26 pm: Followed by a flash to Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman? Huh? "They call me...Kitty Cat." (Sorry, we couldn't help ourselves.)

9:30 pm: Remind us of the point of short films?

9:35 pm: That random woman is totally Kanye-ing Prudence's moment. Aaaawkward.

9:36 pm: Announcer: This is the first Oscar nomination for (can't remember his name). B: Of course it is. He directed a short. It's not like he's a real director. Eat my shorts.

9:39 pm: Wait, we just realized the Blunt is not present! Where are you Blunt?!?!

9:41 pm: W: Mmmm...Quinto in Spock ears. Yes, please. (Is that gross? Have we just divulged too much?)

9:57 pm: Hooray Monique!

9:59 pm: B: Tyler Perry is at the Oscars? House of PAYYYYYNE. W: Madea Goes To JAIL!

It is becoming increasingly hard to type. And distractions like Javier Bardem, Madea and the prospect of SJP after the break, are making us weary. Too drunk to function.

10:09 pm: Tom Ford and SJP together?! OUR BRAINS JUST EXPLODED.

10:11 pm: Costume designer - bitch. We were raving about you owning that dress until you opened your fucking mouth.

10:20 pm: K.Stew, we simply haven't the energy to expend on you.

10:22 pm: Wow, montages are killing tonight. Haha, get it? Horror movie montage? Killer?

Bottle #2 just clinked in the trash. Moving on to Porsecco!

10:28 pm: W desperately thinking of a way to make fun of Elizabeth Banks when it flashes to video of the scientific awards. B: Aww look how cute and Asian they are!

10:36 pm: James Cameron's wife looks so malnourished. And can people stop kissing his ass? Please and thanks. Bigelow will prevail!

10:37 pm: Demi enters stage left. B: Goddamn, you femmebot. You're not aging at all! And you're boning Ashton. You win at life. Demi: Blah blah, something about shooting from behind. W: You said behind.

10:38 pm: Moment of silence.

10:45 pm: This random Avator hottie has to stand like four feet from J-Ho. Her dress is taking over!

10:47 pm: DANCE NUMBER!

10:48 pm: Sweet Jesus, we love a good musical interlude. Seriously we were bitching earlier about this broadcast having no Beyonce-sung nominated songs, but this totally makes up for it.

10:52 pm: W: Dude, Clooney is wasted. I totally want to fuck him. (significant pause) B: Against a wall.

10:54 pm: Cooper in a tux! And I jiiiiizzzz in ma pants. Sing it with us.

11:02 pm: DAMON AGAIN! B is literally losing her mind. B: I would let him do terrible things to me. Illegal things. I would let him fuck me in the armpit. Twice.

11:06 pm: Tyler Perry (still) in da house!! B: Is he gay? W: Ummm...look at him. He's smizing.

11:07 pm: Tyler Perry WILL NOT STOP. B: What a bossy mother fucker. He's talking to us like we don't know what a film editor is. W: Exactly. Don't act like your above us. I can do bad all by myself.

11:10 pm: They should just call this The Hurt Locker and Avatar 82.

11:10 pm: B: KEANU UHHHHH. I love you in Speed annnnd Sweet November!

11:22 pm: Super random toilet paper commercial comes on. B: Are you a top or a bottom? W nearly spits Prosecco everywhere. B: No really, are you an over or an under?

11:25 pm: Tim Robbins, we don't care if your last wife is 75. You're single now and we waaaaaannnnnt it.

11:28 pm: Close shot to Clooney. And he's totally reminiscing of nailing Farmiga. You know it happened.

11:31 pm: B: Farrell is perma-90s. Get your fucking hair cut, you weirdo. You're so Nirvana, all the time. STOP IT.

11:35 pm: WE LOVE YOU, BRIDGES! W: You said "groovy." B: Cause he's The Dude!

11:41 pm: Forest Whitaker directed Hope Floats?! HOW DID WE NOT KNOW THAT?

11:49 pm: Sandy, you're so fucking gracious. We will always love you...and your crazy crying chopper husband.

11:55 pm: EAT IT, CAMERON!!! You dump a bitch, and she will HAUNT your ass!

12:00 am: Bigelow! Locker! SUCK IT, AVATAR!

Annnnnnd they ended it with the score from FAME. Night complete.

1 comment:

  1. This was great...

    Possibly better than watching the award show itself since you a. had bitchier, more clever observations and b. no commercials ;-)

    Following you at