As in Over, By God, For Another Year -- the Oscars, the event you hate to acknowledge, the time when 'Hollywood Honors Its Own', aka, the time when Hollywood Preens For The Little People. And each other, have to admit. Ah, but the glitter, the glamour, the glory! The speeches, the spectacle, the her-boob-just-fell-out! (Did that happen? Don't know, but I'm sure that if it did, it will be tittered about for days to come.) And the dresses, oh, my, I'm sure they ranged from simply elegant to dowdy (well, dear, what did you expect?) to simply plain (she's sure enough of herself not to have to dress up, doncha know.)
And the gift bags, estimated to have a value (each) of one hundred thousand dollars. I was insensibly cheered by noticing that the IRS put out a statement reminding the actors that this is taxable income, even if they did add 'just like normal people', or words to that effect. Then again, what the heck, what well known actor under thirty is normal? (Or above, too, but I think they grow out of it, some of them.)
And wasn't there something last night about movies, too? Missed that part. But, hey, its a honor, nonetheless.
2 comments:
The best part for me was Jack Nicholson, I really like him.
...Hmmmm the gift bags, thats some bucks!
I just watched to see which movie I really thought I should see.
We have a gazillion cable channels and I know if I wait long enough I'll see all of them.
I don't watch much TV. I try not to mention that because to my ear it always sounds like '(sniff) well of cawss television is good for the cawmon people...keeps them docile, doncha know'. Truth is, I just don't get into most TV, though I can get sucked in like anyone else. Want to know Jimmy Neutron's middle name? The breed of pet Kim Possible's friend Ron has? I can tell you -- and I sure didn't pick it up reading. I got it slouched downstairs, like anyone else...
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