mysticonnie's blog

Megalomania continues...
Cheese Diaries
a Conspiracy of 2
Muffin Top

Sunday, February 27, 2005

Sit your asses down!

Dude, how can you not love Chris Rock?

Okay. So, here are my comments about this year's Oscars...

Renee, with your red dress and black hair and lemon puckered face, you're looking like Olive Oyl. Sounding a bit like her too, come to think of it.

Jude, you're a star to me. You've always been a star, since Gattaca. And props to Sean Penn for schooling Chris Rock.

Salma Hayek looks like Vampirella. And her tits are going to pop out any moment.

Love the Lanvin on Natalie Portman. Gives us flat chested girls a spark of hope.

What's up with Beyonce singing every other song? Whenever she appears, I think that a dove is going to flutter out of her cleavage or something. And her French is atrocious. Maybe that's the closest she'll ever get to winning an Oscar.

The hard core boxing workout have made Hilary Swank look a bit... mannish. Like Joan Crawford in a drag queen kinda way.

I know I've said it before, and I'll say it again. Damn, Prince is short.

Hey, I didn't know that Laura Linney was cast in the Mad Max sequel.

Color always looks so flattering on Kate Winslet. While her choices aren't necessarily my style (though I loved the red Ben de Lisi from a few years ago), she always wears frocks that make her skin look great. Come to think of it, they call her "the English Rose," don't they?

Dude, why the hell did Antonio Banderas sing the song from "Motorcycle Diaries"? He's not Latin American. And the guy who actually wrote it seemed to do okay when he sang his acceptance speech. Methinks there is some Hollywood heavyweight maneuvering going on, or maybe Beyonce was too busy changing to sing this one as well. And by the way, Melanie's implants are looking a little... saggy.

Cate, you look fabulous. Love the brooch, love the sash. Keep doing whatever it is that you're doing.

Yay! Finally, Charlie Kaufman won an Oscar. It's about fucking time. Loved his speech. "31, 29... that's really intimidating. Ummm, okay, I really don't like being up here. I want to leave."

Who the hell is this Emmy Rossum bitch? And why the hell should I care that she's presenting? That Phantom of the Opera movie looks godawful.

Billy Bush is a total tool. Even more so than Carson Daly.

Scarlett! What's with the poodle hair? You normally look fabulous, but I think you sat under the processor for too long. As for the other "starlets", love Kirsten's bob, and what's not to love about Maggie Gyllenhall?

Why is it that they always start to cut off the Best Actress speech, and yet they let the Best Actor ramble on and on? What's up with that? It smacks of M-I-S-O-G-Y-N-Y.

Wednesday, February 23, 2005

one, two, three and to the four, snoop doggy dogg and dr. dre is at the door...

random musings about my trip to west la...

1. la people cannot handle the rain. granted, it rained an awful lot, but what's up with the traffic lights not working in the rain? this wasn't just at some random obscure street, but major intersections like fairfax and labrea. i attempted to try west hollywood's masters swim practice, but it was cancelled because it was "raining too hard." (!) the hell? like you're gonna stay dry when you're in the pool.

2. appearances can be deceiving. there are nice people in la. while i was waiting for justin to finish his facial at fresh, the overly groomed manager who looked like a tool struck up a conversation with me. we talked not about what club was the hottest, or the lazaro and mccullough's breakup over at proenza schoeler (if you don't know, don't ask), but about going back to schools, moving away from your parents, having kids (he just adopted two with his partner) and suburban sprawl. when i took a class at city yoga, the trophy blonde that irritated me by her mere presence turned out to be an adho mukho vrksasana (handstands) master who gave me some pretty good tips.

3. canters has pretty good pastrami. but it still in no way is nearly as good as pastrami in manhattan.

4. what's the difference between a houseboy and a manservant? that's a discussion that ought to be held at elixir while sipping tea on the zen patio deck in the rain.

5. is it possible to get a table for eight at 8:00 at table 8? how about on august 8th? heh, heh. i'm such a dork.

6. why the hell is there a line around the block at pink's at 1:30 in the morning when it's pouring rain? really, people, it's just a fucking $2.00 hot dog. they're not that great.

7. "ethan" from "survivor" is in no way a "star". no one who appears on a reality show should be.

8. sometimes, the simplest foods are the best things. although fancier stuff may be available to you, sometimes you just want stuff like cheerios with milk, a fat juicy cheeseburger, or ramen with egg.

9. the grand olympic auditorium is in no way grand or olympic. and the security is awful. when a second interloper gets on stage and the bassist has to trip him in order to allow the roadies to wrestle him off, somebody needs to be fired.

10. when my single friends start getting depressed about their prospects and bad dates, i will tell them the story about the guy who sleeps with his car.

11. it's official. green tea is my crack.

12. at a west hollywood house party attended by a mix of art students, business school types and assorted urban hipsters, the guests, once they start hitting the sauce, apparently want to listen not to moody lounge music like thievery corporation or indie flavors of the month like arcade fire, but ghetto ass gangsta rap.