A week before the Oscars, the producers said that Andrew Garfield was going to make a very special appearance and induct a new superhero into the fraternity of superheroes. They said it was going to be a very moving segment. I took that to mean that they were going to move us all to a higher place by announcing that Courtney Stodden is going to star in the long-awaited Dazzler movie! But no, apparently Batkid was supposed to be the new superhero that Spider-Man was supposed to welcome to the superhero club. In case you just woke up from a long coma or you try to keep your black, molten heart intact by staying away from sweet news about children, Batkid is Miles Scott, a 5-year-old boy with cancer whose Make-A-Wish came true when parts of San Francisco were shut down so that he could live like Batman for a day. Batkid became a viral superstar and he was the reason why millions of hearts liquefied and melted out of orifices.
The Batkid Oscars segment was written, the sets were built and Batkid was at rehearsals on Saturday. But on Oscar morning, the producers told Batkid’s mom that they were cutting the segment. Batkid’s mom told IB Times that they weren’t really given a reason as to why Batkid’s Oscar dreams were stomped on.
“I don’t know if they ran out of time, or if there was something about the segment they didn’t like it. It got pulled so quickly that we didn’t have a lot of insight into what was going on. It is kind of a disappointment, but things happen. I know that’s how TV goes and how Hollywood is. We’re just not used to that; we’re from a really small town.”
Batkid didn’t go to the Oscars, but the producers gave him something better: a trip to Disneyland.
Andrew Garfield wasn’t at the Oscars and Radar said that a “personal matter” is the reason why he canceled on that shit. But Page Six says that the real reason why Andrew wasn’t at the Oscars is because he hates Batkid! Sort of. Some source (probably Doctor Octopus) told Page Six that Andrew was at rehearsals with Batkid on Saturday, but he wasn’t into the lines they wrote for him. He came up with his own lines, but the producers didn’t like them, so he quit that bitch and gave a kid with cancer the sads.
“Garfield refused to go by the script. He came up with his own lines. The producers felt that Garfield’s [rewrites] were not appropriate. Garfield had a tantrum. He stormed off. Miles and his family, who were at the rehearsal, were devastated.Garfield was such a spoiled brat that he didn’t even want to be a presenter.”
Not much makes sense about that story. If Andrew Garfield really is a child-hating demon who agreed to do the Batkid segment and then dropped out at the last minute, why wouldn’t the producers get Thor or Captain America or Batman to do it? Chris Hemsworth, Chris Evans and Christian Bale were all there. I was going to suggest Anne Hathaway as Catwoman, but then all of you would think that I was the one who hates Batkid. That kid doesn’t deserve that.
Besides if Andrew Garfield really bailed out on a kid with cancer, Pimp Mama Kris would walk into the middle of Sunset Blvd, paint a pentagram in goat’s blood, lie down in the middle of it and clutch Andrew Garfield’s headshot while proclaiming him as her new satanic overlord.
UPDATE: A rep for the Academy says that Andrew didn’t ruin the Batkid segment. The producers are the ones who shredded Batkid’s Oscar hopes by cutting it from the show.
“Due to the nature of a live show, hard decisions sometimes must be made which require the Academy to cut segments due to the logistics of production. Andrew Garfield understood that his segment had to be omitted, and he drove to Disneyland on Monday to spend time with 5-year-old Miles Scott (Batkid) and his family.”
Usually Christina Hendricks uses scaffolding, two tire jacks and five rolls of duct tape to hike her magnificent chichis all the way past her face until they’re touching her eyebrows. But at Vanity Fair’s Oscar party last night, her Mount Everest titty balls weren’t suffocating and they weren’t touching God’s feet and hos probably said to her, “So that’s what your face looks like, bitch!”
Christina Hendricks’ chichi domes look magnificent when they’re squeezed up to the roof of heaven or when they look like two extra large mounds of uncooked sourdough cooling on a rack (see: above), but what in Mrs. Roper’s cleaning dress HELL is that on her body?! When I was in the 4th grade, I had a friend whose mom didn’t have money to buy her a Halloween costume, so I helped her make a witch costume using a nun’s gown I wore the year before (yes, I was a nun for Halloween in the 3rd grade, don’t ask how much shit I got for that), a black curtain panel from Ikea and black construction paper. My friend’s costume cost zero dollars, was busted as fuck and was made by two brats whose hands were shaking from eating too much candy and it still looked more luxurious and fashion forward than that shit Christina wore. That dress looks like something Endora would wear to the funeral of a whore she hated. It looks like something from the American Horror Story: Coven collection at Dress Barn.
With all that being said, Christina Hendricks, hausfrau in mourning dress and all, was still the hottest look at that VF party (no, it wasn’t), because mostly everybody else (just Kate Beckinsale) looked like the last place loser at the Miss Bolivia 1993 pageant.
If you happened to be anywhere on the east coast last night and caught yourself around 4:30pm with a strange ringing sound in your ears and a feeling as though someone had shotgunned the holy spirit into your lungs, you’re not alone. That sound you heard was trumpets heralding the arrival of St Angie onto the Oscar’s red carpet, followed by a choir of angels singing “Step aside 5s, two glittery 10s are coming through.” And that light-headed feeling you got was from the drop in air pressure after God saw that Brad Pitt actually combed his hair and collapsed in shock.
Since the Academy Awards ceremony is really just a prom for insanely famous millionaires, the only thing that matters is who wins Prom King and Queen (Best Actor and Actress) and what you’re wearing. But in the event it’s a year that Angelina Jolie graces the Oscars with her holy presence, you’re fucked, because you’re just going to end up looking like a pile of damp laundry in comparison to The Most Merciful.
Even though Angelina could show up wearing a trashy bikini cover-up and Brangeloonies would still openly weep at her feet, she arrived all glowwy, like an elegant chandelier that had just absolved the sins of humanity. Each bead and crystal looks like it represents a tear from every soul she’s saved. And immediately after she walked the red carpet, Zahara was forced to field calls from every interior decorator in Heaven. “I dunno Sebastien, I’d consider selling you a handful of crystals from the left sleeve, but they’re not going to sparkle like they do on my mom.”
Here’s more of Brangelina posing to their internal monologue of the Hallelujah chorus, along with everyone else. Sorry, everyone else; better luck next time.
Four years ago, Kelly Osbourne won a spot in my cold, dark heart (don’t worry, there’s a pile of blankets and a space heater) when she hissed the word butterface in Lady Gaga’s general direction, and their capital B bitch-feud was born. For years they’ve been going back and forth hurling insults like rotten pieces of cake (with one of the insults, quite literally, being a cake), but sadly both bitches went soft and decided to pack their insults away in the attic. NOOOOOOOO! Won’t somebody PLEASE think of the passive-aggressive cakes??
According to Radar, the acrylic nail glue version of the Hatfield-McCoy feud finally came to an end last night at Elton John’s annual Oscar viewing party. Kelly proved to the world that her and Lady Gaga had each extended the other a pastel fiberglass olive branch by Instagramming a pic of herself playfully choking Gaga with the caption: #peace at last. I know; I too was hoping that peace at last was a reference to her trying to choke out any future songs from Gaga’s vocal cords.
I’m not thrilled that Kelly has buried the hatchet with Gaga (I know, how dare I insult Hatchet Face like that) because I think it speaks very very poorly of her sanity and judgement, but sometimes you just gotta say Fuck It and re-route your energy into hating more important things…like the person responsible for going so heavy on the Photoshop that they ended up making you look like Kim Kardashian dry fucked Dame Edna.
Here’s more of Kelly at Elton John’s 22nd Annual AIDS Foundation Academy Awards Viewing/After Party looking like if Betty Draper had an eccentric sister from Baltimore who’s best friend is a poodle named Cha-Cha, as well as Lady Gaga at both the Oscars and the Vanity Fair after party. Say Something Nice: the lace on Gaga’s wig is a very hard worker.
…as Jared Leto snatches the last breath out of your mouth with his spectacular beauty. And I see that Emily from Revenge disguised herself as a PA and is back to her old schemes.
After Jennifer Lawrence stole another piece of America’s heart by busting out a staged, choreographed and manipulative STUNT QUEEN fall on the red carpet at the Oscars yesterday (yes, my name is Michael and I am a Jennifer Lawrence Fall Truther), she lost the Best Supporting Actress Oscar to Lupita Nyong’o and backstage she jokingly tried to steal the trophy. What won’t that shameless white she-devil do for attention?! But really, Jennifer Lawrence was the Jennifer Lawrence-iest last night, but when Lupita won she seemed excited, happy and kind of relieved. Jennifer Lawrence was probably relieved because if she won she was planning to out-do her fall from last year by taking a falling anvil to the head during her speech. When Lupita’s name was announced, Jennifer’s assistant was in the rafters above and said, “phew,” before pulling up that anvil and calling it a day.
And yes, Lupita’s speech was the best:
Even the soulless, emotionless fancy komodo dragon from Neptune that is Benedict Cumberbatch felt feelings and got the weepies in his eyes during Lupita’s speech. They’re starting to FEEL.
Here’s Lupita at the Oscars and also some pictures of her and Jennifer Lawrence at Vanity Fair’s party. No to Lupita’s Claire’s headband and no to Jennifer Lawrence’s hair. Jennifer Lawrence probably figured that Slick Willie would be at one of the parties and he’d never hit on her if she had Hillary Clinton hair. Wise move, JLaw.
I usually hate standing ovations, because standing is hard and requires energy, but those bitches in the audience at the Oscars stood up for U2 yet they didn’t bother pulling their lazy asses out of their seats when living legend Kim Novak came out? Priorities: They ALL need to rethink them. Kim Novak’s filler sister Rose McGowan knows what I’m talking about.
Kim Novak trended on Twitter last night when she presented Best Animated Feature with the Texas T-Rex and her face looked like it was paying homage to the winner Frozen. Kim Novak is 81, she’s bipolar, she fell out of a bell tower twice in Vertigo, she survived breast cancer and suffered nerve damage when she fell off of a horse in 2006, so who cares if she went into some plastic surgeon’s office, pointed at The Jocelyn Wildenstein Puppet Face Special on the menu and said, “Give me that and super size it!” I couldn’t hate on Kim Novak if you told me the plastic in her face was liquefied CROCs. (Okay, I’d hate on her just a little if that was the case.) Kim seemed out of it, but she’s 81 and she still did a better job at presenting than a certain fraudulent bitch in a dead guinea pig wig (JOHN TRAVOLTA!).
Again, Kim Novak is 81! When I’m 81, I won’t be able to talk, walk or even read words on a teleprompter, because I plan to be stoned, drunk, high and all of the above the entire time. Besides, Kim was in Falcon Crest! Anybody who was in Falcon Crest can do no wrong. (Well, except for that piece of trash Lorenzo Lamas. He did wrong by letting go of the best thing that ever happened to him: Shauna Sand!)