“You Know, The Guy I Usually Bring To These Things Always Leaves The Red Carpet Smelling Like Funyuns”
Because she’s always looking for any opportunity to clock a few extra hours of charity work, Dame St. Angie made an appearance at the Hollywood Film Awards last night. And since she’s got that movie she directed to pimp out, she also brought along the star of Unbroken (and owner of the pube-covered neck in Cara Delevingne’s stomach-churning hickey pic) Jack O’Connell.
Jack received the New Hollywood Award for his work in Unbroken and spent most of his acceptance speech slobbering over how wonderful St. Angie is. Meanwhile, Dame St. Angie’s husband Brad Pitt was at home slobbering on himself after he ripped an extra-long bong hit and passed out in his beanbag chair in the garage. He finally came too when the puddle of funyun drool collecting on his shoulder began to attract rats, or as he calls them, “bitey mice”.
I’m not sure why Dame St. Angie left Brapi at home, but it probably had something to do with her dress. Yes, St. Angie has worn 1,734,256 black dresses, but has she even worn a felt dress? Felt picks up everything – it’s like a hoarder in fabric form. So I can only imagine the hassle it would have been to try to keep that felt dress clean. All she’d have to do is lightly brush against Hobo Brad, and that thing would have been covered in Taco Bell crumbs and errant beard hairs and weed stems.
Here’s more of Dame St. Angie working some sexy couch fabric realness, as well as all the other famous hos at the Hollywood Film Awards last night:
The 18th Annual Hollywood Film Awards were held last night in what I assume is the restricted employees-only back entrance to Space Mountain (note: I’m told it’s actually the Hollywood Palladium), and in case you have no idea what the Hollywood Film Awards are, it’s sort of like the Montgomery Burns Award for Outstanding Achievement in the Field of Excellence
Johnny was on hand to present the Hollywood Documentary Award to Mike Myers (yes, The Love Guru Mike Myers) for his documentary about Hollywood talent manager Shep Gordon, Supermensch: The Legend of Shep Gordon. And it appears they serve booze at the Hollywood Film Awards, because Johnny was rolling like a Lohan. Johnny began by approaching the microphone and instantly trying to pick a drunk fight with it. Then he tried reading off the teleprompter, but when that proved to be a fucking challenge, he went off-script, started swearing (CBS had to bleep it, naturally), then using about 8 syllables to pronounce “music industry”. Damn, Gilbert Grape – get your shit together!
Or maybe this was all just a brilliant marketing ploy by CBS to get people to start watching the Hollywood Film Awards? The Hollywood Film Awards airs in the middle of November on a Friday night, so if I had to guess their current audience, it’s either people who fell asleep on the couch or cats who’s owners don’t want them to feel lonely when they leave the house. But if they started getting everyone suuuuper drunk before they hit the stage, people might start watching that shit, because who doesn’t love to see a famous person drunk off their ass? I mean, it totally worked – before this morning, I had no idea what the Hollywood Film Awards were. Good job, guys!