Oscars 2007 aka The Longest Nap Of My Life

The Notebook

So while Stephen is off not getting tazered in the face as he attempts to crash Elton John’s after-Oscar party, I’m going to avoid working on my paper and do some Oscar updating. Well, not so much updating as it is mocking of the entire institution and all it holds dear. Now, now, don’t Fergie in your pants—I shall be updating throughout or at least for as long as I can stay awake. Here goes:

Best I’m off to a raging 80s party on the row, dude…outfit: Jessica Biel. And honestly, if this ho were really as hot as everyone claims, she’d be able to pull off wearing a garbage bag…covered in poop. But she can’t even wear this and look good so come on, who’s the hottie now? Exactly.

Best example of a foreign accent making all the dif: Penelope Cruz. I don’t really have anything clever for this so…um…I’m gonna go….

Most appealing manwich: Diego and Gael. Muy caliente! Nst.

Best example of when not to wear a mommy-dress: Elizabeth Shue. Seriously, when would this ever be a good decision?

Best reminder of why shiny gold jackets are generally bad ideas: Jennifer Hudson. J Hud, a word of advice: when you find yourself suddenly famous, it’s generally wise to look good at all times. Not everyone is as blessed as me in that department, I know, but you at least have to try.

The one who makes aging not quite as scary: Catherine Deneuve. Old laaaady!

Most creative accessory: Wolfgang Puck. Mmm…edible oscar. Although I think a wienerschnitzel would have been more appropriate and much more hilarious here.

Worst attempt at “The Britney:” Jackie Earle Haley, the pedophile from Little Children, tied with Jack Nicholson aka Rachel Green’s hairless cat from “The One With the Ball.”

Best use of a gospel choir: Well, let’s be real, obvi it’s Madonna’s “Like A Prayer” video. Okay, maybe it wasn’t used in the Oscars per se but this shit could use a bit of 1989 Madonna sass.

Only moment really worth watching: That totally adorable reenactment of The Devil Wears Prada between Emily Blunt, Anne Hathaway and please-be-my-second-mom Meryl Streep.

Biggest cop out: Celine Dion not singing “My Heart Will Go On.” I was so prepared to relive my love that is Titanic, not for whatever crap she sang.

Best owning of Dreamgirls: Melissa Ethridge winning for best original song. What suckas–Dreamgirls was nominated for 3 of the 5 songs and they couldn’t even get that right. Served!

Dreamboat of the night: and forever, Clive Owen. Nnnnnnnnssssttttt.

Most annoying embodiment of the Academy’s love of patting itself on the back: Al Gore. Like, we get it: no one likes Prez Bush. No need for the references to Al Gore as president every five minutes. Or for the quick cuts to Stephen Spielberg and every other Hollywood “liberal” clapping excitedly about it. Yeah, I said it!

Total MILF of the night: Diane Keaton. Damn, lady, might as well change your name to Sassy McSasserstein.

Total DILF of the night: Peter O’Toole. Seriously, he was wearing a bowtie and purple jacket and has an accent. Plus, he’s really old and didn’t win so I figured he should get some sort of shout out over here, where it all really matters.

Biggest shocker: Helen Mirren as the best actress?! Forrest Whitaker as best actor?! I never would have guessed.

Worst decision of the night: Eating that ten pound bowl of cereal a minute ago. Eeesh.

Sidenote: You may be wondering why I included a picture of McGosling MOing from The Notebook. Well, I’m not entirely sure, but I think it has something to do with the fact that I just ate about fifty Cadbury eggs and need to believe in true love again by living vicariously through very attractive actors because Spring Break is in a week and I’m. So. Fat. Or it might be because Ryan Gosling is up for Best Actor and he’s the only nominee I could actually give a rat’s ass about…

Source-a-ho, Sourcemeister


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