shaken & stirred

welcome to my martini glass


I hope the celebs have hangovers too, otherwise I feel cheated by fate! I didn't even drink that much. Ouch, the exclamation point hurts my head.

I probably would have been a lot more entertaining if I'd done this entry late last night, after the show actually went off. But. Here we are.

Cintra Wilson has another kick-ass wrap-up over at Salon, by the way.

I had a dream last night and it was about Catherine Zeta-Jones' (Douglas?) final fitting for her dress. Pendulous balloon breasts shifting, a man with stick pins and a very nervous constitution, the danger of deflatement...And Catherine snapping to beat the band while pausing to eat roasted poodle and pickles.

i bet I'm not far wrong.

Who am I kidding? It's over. The Oscars were as anti-climactic as we all knew they were going to be this year, except for Michael Moore's bluster, which was hardly a surprise after they announced he'd won. (Debate going on over at the seemaxrun board as to what part of his speech actually crossed the line and garnered the boos. I think it was because everybody who was there knows that Jeb Bartlett of NBC's West Wing is the real fictitious president.)

The kid from Y Tu Mama Tambien cleans up nicely.

Roman Polanski winning proves that, as Bill Maher has said, you really can get away with anything. (Also according to Maher, the incident of infamy involving Polanski actually involved him drugging the 13-year-old and sodomizing her. I'm sorry, but that kind of changes things for me. I'd always assumed it was more along the lines of sleazy indiscretion. I think maybe once people cross that line where you have trouble disassociating their personas from their work, they have to die before you can consider the work independently. I know this makes me wonder what I've missed in all of Polanski's work I have enjoyed. Maybe nothing.)

I'm boring even myself. Chris Cooper seems like the nicest man. For the love of god, someone get Renee Zelweger a steak or three, okay? If Zeta-Jones was a better person, she'd give one of her breasts to Renee to get her started on looking healthy again. Please, someone, book her for Bridget Jones dieux.

The best part of the Oscars, was, even long-distance the catty running commentaries as Christopher and I passed each other off to Kelly and Gavin and Barb in Northampton, as they passed each other off to us. Good times. I wonder if they have hangovers.

Time to go to the post office and mail out copies of Say..., hope my headache goes to sleep so I can actually get some work done today, take George for a walk and go see Hem later at the Kentucky. Well, actually it can't be all those times at once, but you get the picture.

Mikal Trimm has a really funny blog. It's here.

Remember, don't go thinking you're Michael Moore. They really will hook you up to the electroshock for those kinds of things these days.


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