Academy Awards Exegesis

First, let’s get the George Clooney is yummy thing out of the way. Yes, he is yummy, charming, masculine, a nice guy, probably gay but who cares. I want to have sex with him and I speak for all of us. Now, on to the special moments:

Jennifer Garner almost falling was the evening’s best moment. If only! Still, she  showed that she is a real pro, able to withstand marriage to Ben Affleck and still keep her chin up, even when another catasrophe hits.

Lauren Bacall: I had to cover my face, it was just too hard to watch. I did hear her recoup sort of, when she suddenly gave an expressive  actressy undertone to her last sentence. Poor Lauren. Just 30 years ago, I noticed her behind me at the Portobello Road street market when she brayed loudly to an assistant in a voice that had seen a million unfiltered cigarettes.

What else? On the anorexia front, there was Dolly Parton and Hillary Swank. Eat already, you two, anyone can starve, it’s not much of an accomplishment, look at Kenya! In the boobs department: Salma Hayek is a goddess, Felicity Huffman and Keira Knightly need to get implants, and all the nursing moms looked fantastic, just as nature intended.

In The Closet notes: Keanu’s hair was not a plus, Sandra Bullock can’t fool me just by marrying a biker, Naomi and Nicole could have chosen more flattering gowns, and that guy from Hustle and Flow: What’s with the big diamond brooch? Is that some new Cancer logo like the pink ribbon? Let us in on it!

Well, all in all, it was another disappointing awards show. John Stewart has only himself to blame, and even the montage of dead people failed to kindle any nostalgia. My kid did make some great guacamole though! If you’re wondering who made my jeans, they were Earnest Sewn, from Neiman Marcus charge card.   My sweater was by some thrift shop and Saucony did my shoes.