who dat? contest.

(yo stee. i know
who dat?)

last game:

actress alana ubach. clockwatchers. denise calls up.

first correct answer:

left column sad

oscars post-mortem

So in watching the fairly boring but generally innocuous Oscars last night, a few small things struck me as particularly odd, disturbing, or, well, fucking funny:

Could Russell Crowe have a worse sense of humor? He didn't even laugh during Billy's fairly impressive "Insider" song. Almost makes me ashamed to think he's the fucking shit.

What was my girlfriend Cate Blanchett wearing on her hand?

It's sad when a composer (John Corigliano) is 1000 times more eloquent than most of the "actor" presenters. Particularly Tobey Maguire. Jesus man, could you at least put in a fucking effort? You made Eryka Badu look like Paul Robeson compared to your lifeless monotone.

Fiona Apple was clutching PTA's arm as if his dog had just died. Fiona: not everyone has your innate inability to deal with disappointment (your last concert at Roseland where you stopped the show midway through, for example). Paul wasn't about to rush out of the Shrine yelling that this is "bullshit". I know he loves you because you're so "free" with your emotions, but here are two things that exist: "a time" and "a place". Look into them.

Harmony Korine. I'm just saying.

Is Warren Beatty dying? He looked like he had TMJ or had at least been sucking cock all night. Watching him speak gave me such jaw tension I had to switch channels to the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air for a minute just to relax. Katherine Hepburn looks to be in more physical control of herself these days than Warren did last night.

Billy Crystal did a pretty good job, if uninspired. The opening montage was fantastic, especially the cruel Stephen King joke that they felt the need to punch home with a bizarre Photoshop CGI thing with his face superimposed. His other best line of the night was during the "mind-reading" segment (I smell Carol Liefer and/or that Bruce dude) with Judi Dench, "This thong is killing me." Ha.

Robin Williams now officially Ruins Everything. He just stole the title from Vonda Shepard. Past baton holders include Judith Light, Roger Moore, Edward James Olmos, and the older sister from Full House. The Blame Canada number made me long for the choreography of Pat, my old hunchback high-school drama teacher. Even she wouldn't have been able to fuck up that number. Robin can't sing for shit and his constant vacillation as a performer between smarmyhokey and manic is giving me vertigo. I for one wish he'd go back on cocaine. At least then he'd have to put his tired-ass jokes about his "drug-days" to rest, which would, by the way, officially mark the first jokes he has ever put to bed. He repeats himself more than Stevie Wonder playing Marco Polo.

I don't know about you, but I am fucking rushing out to see King Gimp. Any movie about a guy so excited about things he falls out of his wheelchair can have my $7.50. (Bizarrely, the minute they showed said gimp, my friend said, "Oh man, don't fall out of your wheelchair...". A second later: Wham.)

Jack Nicholson. Literally, what can you say...

One of my favorite moments had to be when Billy Crystal made fun of the fact that Planet Hollywood is in bankruptcy to Arnold. Arnold hasn't had to work that hard to keep a smile plastered on his face since he saw the opening weekend box office for Jingle All The Way.

Fuck Phil Collins and especially fuck the branch that votes for song because they never get it right. They make the Grammies look cutting edge, these fuckers.

One question: how the hell did Courtney B. Vance score a ticket? Just wondering.

Props to Spacey for playing the gay lotion shower moment in the opening film clip.

I'm glad they mixed up the Oscar show music this year but putting Don Was and Burt Bacharach together made for a weird fucking combo.

The winners...

I'm just frankly fairly disillusioned. Not that I was ever really illusioned to begin with, but the one/two combo of Angelina Jolie and Michael Caine just boooooooored me. Sure, Michael Caine probably gives the best acceptance speeches ever, but, as a choice, it's such a bore. Same with Big Lips, who to me is just too pretty to be much of an actress. She's also won Waaaay to much shit for being the age she is. And I'm not going to mention that creepy Freddy Mercury-looking brother she carts around like a big gay security blanket. I actually feel bad for the guy. At least Dachen Thurman no longer lets Uma bring him everywhere (although I'd rather see her with her bro than with Ethan Hawke - who I might add was introduced as an actor/novelist. Novelist. Hee hee. No offense to those fans, but I obviously just don't get the Hawkster.) Kevin Spacey, I can't argue with. He's so fucking talented and classy he's running the risk of imploding. And the Swank: great. The clip they showed of her post-rape is just so balls-out and fantastic. And hell, she married Chad Lowe, so you have to throw her a bone. American Beauty all around. Great. A beautiful movie, I've said it before. I just wish Three Kings was up for even one award. Even fucking cinematography or something. Damn.

The Corin "Corky" Nemec Happy Song Corner

Shaft. Who's the black private dick that's a sex machine to all the chicks? (Shaft!). You're damn right. Who is the man that would risk his neck for his brother man? (Shaft!)Can ya dig it? Who's the cat that won't cop out when there's danger all about (Shaft!) Right on. You see this cat Shaft is a bad mother-- (Shut your mouth). But I'm talkin' about Shaft (Then we can dig it) He's a complicated man but no one understands him but his woman (John Shaft)... speaking of which. Maybe I'm just hyper-observant, but I just have to say that the "errant" smoke machine that enveloped Issac Hayes during "Shaft" was obviously a ploy on the part of the Academy to "hide" my fellow Scientologist in a show of religious hatred not displayed since the Holocaust. Think about that.
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