Guess what? Because you will never guess what.
I am going to the Oscars.
You may not think it is true, but it is. Because I got a card in the mail today and it said I could go to the Oscars if I wanted. Because I am a film critic. Film critics go the Oscars. It’s true. You can ask anybody.
I can’t stand that Tom Cruise was robbed once again, this time for his performance in War of the Worlds, in yet another example of Hollywood’s bias against Scientologists. Scientologists are hard-working, perfectly sane people. Personally, I think that the Academy was scared away by the reports repeatedly labeling Mr. Cruise as "crazy."
Brokeback Volcano
Good Morning, and How Was That Thing You Had?
Munich 2: the Reckoning
Crash, But the One David Cronenberg Made in 1996
Truman Capote, Re-Animator
Paradise Later
It was a big night for retards everywhere Sunday when Anjelica Huston’s directing debut Riding the Bus with My Sister took home Special Oscars for Best Picture, Best Director, and Best Adapted Screenplay. Star Rosie O’Donnell took home the coveted Best Performance in a Retarded Role, shutting down Timothy Treadwell’s hopes for a posthumous award for his role in Grizzly Man.
I mean, we don’t expect to win Best Editor’s Note again! We won last year. It would hardly be fair to win two years in a row. They can’t just keep giving the award to us.
"Cinderella Man is exactly what it sounds like: a Cinderella story about a man."
"Meet the Fockers has received unbelievable ratings and reviews… I was laughing the whole three hours."
Must Love Dogs: "While the title indicates otherwise, it is not actually necessary to like dogs to enjoy this movie."
I didn’t spend any time with the new puppy because of the following bad experience: It was the winter of 1999 and middle school was going great. On an early February morning I was wandering around the Bronx with a puppy, as sixth graders often do, when four policemen jumped out of a car. “NYPD. Freeze,” they yelled to a man, “Put your hands up.”
Friday night was so embarassing. I took puppy to the Jubilee Shades of Blackness performance and he insisted on wearing his “Yellow Labs Rule” trucker cap and an Exeter shirt! After we sat down to watch the dance troupes, he peed on the ground. Throughout the performance he was barking and peeing, all the while in his stupid outfit. AWKward!
Why do we hate liars, you ask? Why do we hold animosity towards fibbers? Because they don’t tell the truth, fallopian tube nose. Like Kevin Bacon, for example. His entire life is one large undulating charade, much unlike his penis in that movie Wild Things. Everything about his life is a lie, a falsehood, a fabrication, and the fact that he expects this dastardly deceit to fool the hearts and minds of the American people is something that makes me throw up in my mouth a little bit.
For years we’ve begged the WSA to give us a puppy. Our budget always read something like this:
$10 – Pens, Legal Pads
$25 – Sorority Boys DVD
$300 – Tropical Fruit Gushers
$57 – PUPPY!!! pleasepleaseplease