The Oscars were Sunday night, but I was too busy bouncing my attention back and forth between the Heat-Knicks game and this weird growth on my shoulder. I think it may be a third hand slowing growing out of me, like Judd Nelson in The Dark Backward. Speaking of which, I would have watched the Oscars if the Academy had decided to atone for their grave mistake of not giving The Dark Backward a retroactive 1991 Best Picture Oscar for be brave enough to be the only movie that year to feature Judd Nelson as a standup comedian that grows a third arm out of his back, and to showcase Bill Paxton as a creepy garbage man that at one point in the movie licks the boob of a dead woman he finds in the dump. Silence of the Lambs was an amazing and terrifying movie that was rightfully awarded best picture in ‘91, but it lacked dead boob licking and third arm growing.
After missing the Oscar ceremony itself, I decided to check out who the winners were online to find out if the Academy had award the Best Picture trophy to another British movie about people with less emotions than a dead body that gets its boob licked by Bill Paxton. It was then that I realized that the real winners and losers of the night had nothing to do with who took home a statue, but which woman wore the most impressive collection of fabrics. After a few minutes of research I still didn’t know if The King’s Speech beat out The Social Network, but I do know who wore the best and worst dresses.
In my journey to find out who won the awards I found out you can be one of the best dressed women at the Oscars by simply showing up dressed like Casper The Friendly ghost after he’s been doused with glitter by amateur ghost hunters so they can see him better as they attempt to exercise his ass back to hell.
I also learned that you can be considered one of the best dressed women by showing up in a dress that makes it seem like you immortalized the time you were stabbed in the chest by a some rebar that fell of the back of a construction truck by gluing Christmas tinsel on to a red dress from Ross.
Apparently, the catty fashionistas on E! and shit like that really don’t like it when you show up looking like you sewed your grandmother’s doilies together and added a super-cool popped collar.
I should note that by this point I have seen about 24 times more articles about what people wore to the Oscars than I have articles about people that won the Oscars, which is to say that I’ve come across 24 articles about clothing and none about Oscar winners. Melissa Leo is holding an Oscar, therefore I can deduce that she either won it or yanked it out of Judd Nelson’s third hand.
Helena Bonham Carter
They also don’t like it when you show up dressed like a Victorian era whore willing to deliver a proper rogering for a few pence and the promise of a lukewarm bowl of gruel.
I had no idea Cate Blanchett was nominated for anything, but she apparently won two Oscars – one of which was probably for wearing a dress that looks like citrus canker.
By this point I’m almost certain there’s no such thing as an award ceremony. The entire shindig is designed to make everyone at E! feel like they have a purpose in life beyond suckling at the teats of celebrities.
Finally, I discovered that you can be deemed one of the worst dressers if you show up wearing a dress that my male eyes see as nothing more than a dress. Evidently, if you’re not wearing a meat dress or citrus canker then you should get the f*ck off the red carpet and make way for someone sporting a get up that will be able to kill no less than 45 minutes of air time or three paragraphs of article space to discuss how you don’t have enough boob to fill it out.
Regardless, the actress will always have enough boob for Bill Paxton to lick, assuming it’s a dead boob, and you are a dead woman attached to said dead boob.
After about 15 minutes of searching for the winners of the actual awards, I finally came across an article that contained a list of the winners. Sadly, I no longer gave a shit. But I am a little pissed that Bill Paxton was overlooked for Best Portrayal of a Creepy Dead Boob Licker. Goddamn Colin Firth, man. Always has to be so damn charming when he’s licking dead boobs.