--- Sat through the entire Golden Globes ceremony last night. Ugh. I'm
disgusted with myself. I could have better spent that three hours
curing cancer or something like that, but I couldn't resist. Couldn't
turn the eyes away, even though I did manage to surf a wee bit during
the event. (And besides, there was nothing else on---Alias
was a rerun.)
Yet, for some unknown reason, I couldn't turn my eyes away. I just
flat-out love it when Hollywood comes out for an evening to pat itself
on its collective back. I mean, what's not to love about a complete
overload of ego? It's just too good an opportunity to miss. It's as if
there were such a thing as an all you can eat pie buffet. It's sooooo
bad for you; you'll gain weight as a result; your jeans might not fit,
but how the hell can you resist? I know. I don't seem like the type of
person who watches this sort of stuff. But I do. I can't seem to help
myself. Never used to watch the Golden Globes, but now I do: I like
watching everyone get stupid. I mean, come on! The potential for stupidity is huge. In fact, it's not just possible----it's probable.
It's just a matter of time before there's a really spectacular train
wreck at this pig. Think about it: you've got the people with the
world's most inflated egos sitting in one big ballroom, patting
themselves on the back, and the liquor's flowing freely? Can you say CRASH!Boom! BANG!?
I have to watch---just to see if someone's going to get really stupid.
Now, just like the awards themselves, the Golden Globes are just a
warmup for me. I actually host a party every year for the Oscars. That one deserves to be watched with friends. This way the jokes, the ridicule, the she went out of the house looking like that!, the very thin layer of actual praise can be enjoyed by all. Besides, everyone
watches, whether they'll admit it or not. Might as well get together,
eat drink and be merry whilst doing it. But that's the Oscars. This was
the Golden Globes. The warmup. The proverbial hamstring stretch. Now,
while I have many things to say about this, I'm going to concentrate on
fashion for a minute and then I will be back later with comments about
the actual award. Today's and on and off blog day---we gots stuff going
on. Namely, I need to get my butt over to ML's house and feed her---she
threw her back out this morning. So, where were we? Oh, that's right,
fashion. - Renee either had a kid that we never heard about or she's playing Bridget again.
Can you say mammary glands boys and girls?
- Gee, Johnny.
Here's a tip: Al Capone is dead. Has been for quite some time. Take off the frigging hat.
- Why does Diane Keaton always think she needs to look like some sort of vestal virgin when
she goes to awards shows? Cut back on the white, babe. It's just not
your color. (Oh, and do you think she's been hanging out with Keanu
lately? Man, that coat is straight out of The Matrix.)
- News flash. A boob job does not equal good taste in jewelry.
What in God's name is that thing around her neck.
Honestly, do we need the camera crews on The Newlyweds
to start a recon mission for the dungeon in their house? That place is
so massive, I can see where they might have missed it. Check the
basement, people. I think you'll find it there. - I tried to find a pic
of Nicole Kidman, but I can't seem to. I'll snoop around some more and
maybe I'll come up with something. But she definitely gets the award
for worst dressed. That dress was awful!. Normally Nicole has such great style. I
wonder who talked her into that thing. It was just horrible. Not
flattering. Ill fitting. And the color was just BLAH! --- Ok, off to
wade through the snow to run errands. More later.