I Hope You're Happy, James Franco, You're No Longer My Favorite Quirky Soap Star. That Honorific Has Been Restored To Dr. Drake Ramoray.
Hello my crumpled gowns and deflated hairdos. My crushed dreams and trampled hopes. My discarded neckties and creased cumberbunds. My-no, you’re right. I should have stopped four endearments ago. So the Academy Awards were pretty dreadful, right? Salon has a great piece on Franco’s apathetic display. (Salon)
Oh, also, my little seat fillers, I was promised a Hathaway/Franco homage to Grease! And I didn’t get one! Because they cut it! But then I watched it this morning and I understood why. Hint: It’s not good. (NY Mag)
There were moments during last night’s show, in fact, when I would have preferred to be watching that TV channel that only plays a chicken on a rotisserie. I’m serious, there is a TV channel that only plays a chicken on a rotisserie. Magnifique. (Warming Glow)
Speaking of mesmerizing fowl, someone has charted the likability of the different types of Angry Birds. I don’t play this game, so I really don’t get its appeal. But, then again, in a world where there is a TV channel that only plays a chicken on a rotisserie…anything is possible. (The Laughing Squid)
Also inexplicable to me is the fact that a) that film about a killer tire was written, produced and made and b) the new poster is kind of an awesome throwback and I want one. (Apple)
This is one of those visual jokes. One of those “wait for it” jokes. One of those, maybe I drank too much champagne at the Oscar party last night, my doves, and that’s why I found this so amusing jokes. (The High Definite)
But all the champagne in the world couldn’t dull my fury last night when that no talent hack, Randy Newman, walked away (left foot, right foot) with another Academy Award for his loathsome brand of musical schlockery. I was so mad I wanted to rip a telephone book in half. Thanks to io9, I now know how to. (io9)
As my 30th birthday draws ever nearer, I’m looking forward to no longer being tormented by these monsters of my twenties. Though, I fear the Dragon of Disorganization may be here to stay. (Thought Balloon Helium)
You know who else is here to stay? The protesters in Madison, WI. The police refused to kick them out of the capitol building and have stated that, if the protesters conduct themselves as they have been, none of the them are in danger of being arrested. Groovy. (Huffington Post)
If it weren’t frigid in Wisconsin, I would advocate that all of the protesters don their shortest shorts because, apparently, the back of the upper thigh is the newest, freshest way to get your message across. (Geekosystem)
Speaking of upper thigh, Jimmy Kimmel, in his infinite witchery, conned some of the hottie boombalattis of Hollywood to appear in this faux workout sketch. Abandon class, all ye who enter here. I’ll say this a) Scarlett Johansson exhibits more comedic chops in this one sketch than she did in an entire episode of SNL b) Emily Blunt is wonderful and adorable but needs to not be blonde anymore c) sometimes I find myself liking Jessica Biel d) this is never true of Jessica Alba e) Sofia Vergara is the most beautiful woman on the entire planet except for my girlfriend Kate Winslet (who is not in this video but is always worth mentioning).
And if scantily clad ladies aren’t your thing, here’s a great video of and auto-tuned George Carlin. I know, it’s hard to improve on the perfection that is George Carlin, but this is pretty boss.
In the words of one of my favorite snarkmouths, “I don’t know which is harder to say: ‘Two-time Oscar-winner Randy Newman’ or ‘Tony Award-winner Scarlett Johansson.’ They’re both ridiculous.” Disagree? Let me know here: [email protected] or follow me once more unto the breach @quityourJRob.