What more could a Tommy Girl want? Tommy's got a French man face nuzzling up against him and his eyes are sending tingles down to his Scientolohole, because he has fallen in love with that Oscar statue. If you put your ear to Tommy's head as he stared at Oscar, you would hear Color Me Badd's "I Wanna Sex You Up" blasting in there. The places Tommy wants to take that gold-plated tube of fun (fart if you need a clue).
Thomas Langmann, who won that Best Picture Oscar for producing The Artist, better have kept his hands on that trophy the same way I kept my mouth over my vaporizer to get through last night's show. Because if he left Oscar by itself for a quick minute, Tommy Girl would've un-velcroed the secret "easy access" flap on the ass of his pants and made it disappear by sitting on it. Tommy's no-no would've sucked the gold right off of that thing and left Thomas with nothing but a grey shell of a trophy that smells like a bath house floor. So it's a good thing Thomas didn't let go. Actually, I take that back. Thomas should've given Tommy that Oscar, because it's wrong to deny someone of true love.
Here's more of Tommy with peen on the brain (no, seriously, that forehead looks like the imprint of a peen lying on his brain) at the Oscars and later at the Vanity Fair party with Stepford Katie. Katie looked like shit. Was she serious with those clip-on bangs and that polyester hair tail from Sally's. Who does she think she is, Ambular from Clueless? Whatever.
If you're one of the lucky ones who missed the Oscars and want a full-on recap, just pour a glass of lukewarm tap water into a paper bowl full of instant oatmeal and watch as it slowly slowly slowly cooks, because that's about as exciting as the boring mess some of us sat through last night. Everybody kept saying that last night's show was like Werther's Original night in the rec room of a Boca retirement home since it felt like a moth ball air kiss from the Academy to the olds, but saying that is an insult to memaws and papaws. The olds didn't like that shit either. Trust. The olds thought they were getting a dancing Billy Crystal, but because he's fucked with his face so much they got a dancing mummified Kim Jong-Il instead. Most of the olds probably took off their teefs and went to bed before Best Supporting Whatever was passed out.
But besides Meryl Streep's speech, there was a bright spot among the bleakness. It came when Jean Dujardin wiped the permanent smugness off of George Clooney's face by winning Best Actor. Then Jean Dujardin kept the tingles coming by face posing for his life in the press room with Meryl Streep. Jean Dujardin is damn fucking charming. He's like a skinny Gaston from Beauty and the Beast without the doucheness. Sometimes his face looks like he's starring in a toothpaste commercial from the 50s and other times it looks like he's watching two unicorn babies slide down a complete double rainbow in the distance. Jean's face is always set to magic.
Looking at him holding onto that Oscar trophy makes me think that he probably gives the most charming handjobs ever. I bet he smiles that twinkly smile the entire time and gives you an extra twitch in your crotch when he raises his eyebrow at you. Normally, I'd think that smiling while cumming is totally creepy, but it isn't when you do it with smile master Jean Dujardin. It's impossible to not feel happy inside when you're staring at a French man whose smile makes you hear cartoon birds singing and shit.
I didn't know Richard Dreyfuss had a serious case of crazy in him, but apparently he does and he used it to turn a fluffy post-Oscars interview with a local news station into a puddle of WHAT?! The reporter dude asked Richard who his favorite young actor of the moment is, and he mumbled out that he's too busy saving the country to go to movies and then he verbally brain farted about how he wants everyone in American including the Koch Brothers to re-sign the Preamble.
I love it when hos turn a boring generic interview into a "4am moment on the C train with a subway prophet," so I'm not complaining, but I do have to ask why Richard was even there if he doesn't watch movies? Was he there for the free hooch (probably) or did his partner in crazy Jeff Bridges send him there to gather more intel on the Star Whackers? Whatever the case may be, I'd rather have watched Richard do this all night than stare at Billy Crystal's canned chicken face for 4 hours.
Bitches who said that one of the original first ladies of crazy, Sean Young, can't even get arrested in Hollywood are gargling and swallowing their words this morning, because the insane bitch who paved the way for fellow crazies like Spaz de la Huerta was thrown into handcuffs after she brought the insanity on a security guard at the official Oscars after party last night.
TMZ says that after the Oscars, Sean hung around the entrance to the Governors Ball with a group of friends. Apparently, Sean didn't have a ticket to get in and was trying to crash that shit. The security guard knew that Sean was trying to be slick and slip in, so he kept telling her to try the after-party at the IHOP on Santa Monica instead. You can't keep a crazy bitch away for long and Sean kept trying to get in. The security guard finally had enough of her shameless trying and the two got into it. The security guard says that Sean slapped him in the face and that's when he busted a CITIZEN'S ARREST on his ass. Sean was taken to a police station in Hollywood where she was kept for four hours.
TMZ has a video of Sean leaving the police station at 2 in the morning and the smell of teeth dust will hit your nostrils as soon as you start watching it. Sean should go into ventriloquism, because I don't know how the words made it out of her mouth while she was doing the 4th gear coke grind with her teeth. Dr. Drew's track record remains unblemished (of success stories that is).
Sean tells TMZ that it's the Academy's lawyer's fault. Sean said that she was at the party with friends when for no reason at all, the Academy's lawyer told the security guard to arrest her ass. No, Sean's side of the story makes no sense, but Sean never makes sense and I want off of this planet as soon as Sean starts making sense. Sean Young's crazy makes Dlisted go 'round!
And before Sean was arrested for impersonating a famous person, she managed to take pictures with the likes of Sandra Bullock, the owner of Angie Jolie's right leg and a sunburnt Santa Claus on meth. Sean should've worn her homemade Catwoman costume, because then she would've gotten the respect she deserves!
JLo shouldn't even be the second-string trophy girl at the San Juan Community Theater Awards, but for some messed up reason the Oscar Meyer Awards asked her to present some shit with Cameron Diaz last night. Maybe it was a Make-A-Wish situation and the producers wanted to the charity tax right-off, because when you Google "WHY IN ALL THE FUCKS WAS SHE THERE?!," JLo's mug will be smiling back at you. But whatever, JLo wasn't asking any questions and she made sure to stretch her 15 seconds on stage by stretching her dress to the point of no return.
While dressed like a standby letter turner on a 70s Mexican game show, JLo made hos everywhere press pause on their Tivos to see if she was flashing an inch of the nipple plate that Skeletor used to snort lines of crushed baby bones off of. JLo's stylist says that it was just an optical nippleusion and there was no nip slip situation. Whatever, at least staring at JLo's peek-a-nip distracted me from listening to her talk or looking at Cameron Diaz's face. I mean, Cameron Diaz's FACE and HAIR! That's what eating Diddy's ass on a full-time basis does to you. If Cameron meant to look like a Florida teenage boy whose hair and face got fried in a meth lab explosion, then a slow clap for her.
And back to JLo's nip (I hope to never type those words again), since last night's theme was obviously fame-hongray body parts, why didn't Jean Dujardin's peen tip poke out the piss slit in his pants while he was accepting his award. All we got was JLo's maybe nip and Angie's skeleton leg. Where was Jean Dujardin's peen tip when we needed it most?!
Much like the Honey Badger, the I Don't Care Bear doesn't give a flaming shit. - BaconSlut
OK, so he's not a genius, but somehow Kris Humphries came up with a way to sanitize Kim's skankiness off himself. - OurMissC
"Hello Utah !!!! For all you anally-impaired in the audience -- here's an illustration of what an asshole feels like when a particularly stubborn bear of a turd, finally breaks through. - WTFOMGLOL
Mormons go to amazing lengths to "test drive" their magic, fire-proof underwear. - Vern
Because you know this mess was coming, here's Angie Jolie's right leg which was the breakout meme of last night's annual Hollywood circle jerk sponsored by Ambien. I don't know if Angie got high from the toxic fumes wafting off of Wanderlust after it bombed at the box office, but she was posing hard like she was stuck in a hallucination where she was Lea Michele. That was some trademarked Lea Michele posing right there. Bitch stuck her right leg out like her pussy was on fire. Bitch stuck her right leg out like she was getting into the birthin' stance just in case a newborn needed to fall out. Or just in case an orphan stowed away in her UNICEF crotch during one of her trips to the third world and needed to come out. It was that kind of stance.
Angie's right leg already has over 11 thousand followers on Twitter, has started a war with Jennifer Aniston's right leg and I'm sure the makers of prosthetic legs slaved away all night making a knock-off version of that leg. Heather Mills have one strapped to her by noon. Hysteria over Angie's fame-whoring leg reached a fever pitch when she presented the award for Best Adapted Screenplay, and one of the winners Jim Rash (aka Not-Moby) celebrated by making fun of her "LOOK AT ME LEG" pose right to her face. This is the pose that launched a thousand Brangeloonie shits:
Yes, Angie will get revenge on Not-Moby by sucking the life out of his body and storing it in her right knee cap so he'll live forever in her CAN-CAN RIGHT LEG OF DOOM, but it was worth it. And by the time I hit publish on this shit, Angie's right leg will officially be the dead, beaten horse of the Oscars, which is kind of funny since it looks like it just beat a dead horse.
Grant Show (50)
Nicole Linkletter (27)
Kara Mara (29)
Josh Groban (31)
Chelsea Clinton (32)
Bobby Valentino (32)
Peter Andre (39)
Rozonda "Chilli" Thomas (41)
Donal Logue (46)
Noah Emmerich (47)
Adam Baldwin (50)
Johnny Van Zant (53)
Timothy Spall (55)
Neal Schon (58)
Debra Monk (63)
Ralph Nader (78)
Joanne Woodward (82)
I was all ready for my eyeballs to do a new kind of roll over Sacha Baron Cohen stunting through the Oscars red carpet as The Dictator, but seeing Ryan Gaycrest's little girl bitchface changed EVERYTHING! I thoroughly approve of this shit and I don't care if they spent months rehearsing this shit. In case you missed it, The Dictator spilled Kim Jong-Il's ashes (it was Bisquick) all over Simon Cowell's favorite motorboating partner. Watching Gaycrest slowly spin into an internal cunt midget meltdown was like watching a My Little Pony slowly boil in a pot of hot water. I bet Gaycrest's glitter hole was holding all of his rage so he wouldn't flip out and order one of his assistants to put him on their shoulders so he could slappity slap slap SBC's beard. They should just cancel the rest of this mess and just show us 3 hours of Gaycrest throwing an on the floor tantrum like a second place child beauty pageant queen.
Don't medical experts say the best hangover cure is to get drunk again and stay drunk continuously so you never get hungover again? That is why I'm going to get rid of my day-long hangover by swallowing a wine bottle to get me through 55 thousand million hours of wishing that Billy Crystal's unicorn twin Richard Simmons was hosting this mess instead. Sacha Baron Cohen's STUNT QUEEN ass just walked on the red carpet at the Oscars in his Dictator drag, so I hope the foolery continues through the night and Melissa McCarthy dresses up as her Bridesmaids character to tackle Octavia Spencer when Octavia wins Best Supporting Actress.
Put your mouth around your mind-number of choice and connect up your arm vein to an IF drip full of creamed Chicken McNuggets, because you're going to need the protein. It's going to be a long ass night, but Nick Nolte and that nose picker in the back will get us through this.
If you need me, I'll be drunkTweeting on my Twatter starting at around 8:15pm. But before I do that, I'm going to make the sign of the cross the same way my abuelita does when she's about to be stuck in the car with us for over 4 hours during a road trip. I'm in it for the long, painful haul. Happy Drunkscars!