Wednesday, 30 January 2013
Shitipedia : O is for...
What could be better than the opportunity to watch your favourite Z-list celebs preening and posturing alongside the rich and famous on that famous red carpet? Well, you could try poking out your eyeball with a red hot needle...
The Oscars are the movie - sorry, film - world's way of saying "Look at us! We might be talentless and overpaid, but we're having a fucking good party and patting ourselves on the back! Don't you wish you had as much money as us?"
And, of course, you won't get a little gold statue unless you're American, or directed by an American, or perhaps produced by an American because at the end of the day, the Oscars are, well let's be honest, for Americans. Unless you're Helen Mirren playing the Queen of course ("We just lerv your royal family...!) then you've got no chance of a gong. After all, that's why we have the Baftas.
And another thing - what's all this shite about the parties? The place to be is apparently the Vanity Fair party where you have to kill to get an invite. Why? Well, because it's exclusive. If it wasn't exclusive, then nobody would want to go.
I'm going to have my bit of the party roped off so everyone can see I'm super-important and you'll all want to come and talk to me but I'm not going to let you. After all, it worked for posh spice at that shite Spice Girls premiere thing she went to, so it ought to work in Hollywood!
And as for Elton John's annual bash - well that's just an excuse for the old queen to show us just what a has-been over-the-top prat he is. Give it up, Elton. You're too old and fat and you just look stupid. I wouldn't go to your party if you paid me.
I'm having my own Oscars party this year, and you can't come. So fuck off...
Thankfully, O is also for... Ouzo. Always slips down a treat while you're trying to stomach the Oscars.