� Memoirs of an Evil Genius �
Conquering the World, One Martini at a Time

� Oscar� the Grouch �
12:48 p.m., 2004-03-01

To whoever has my friend Shannon�s old phone number, I�d just like to say I�m real sorry about waking you up in the middle of the night on Friday. In theory, I suppose I was just trying to call Shannon and be like, "Hey! It�s me! What do you mean �me who�? It�s me! Okay, I�ll give you a hint: we went to school together, we haven�t seen each other in almost three years, and I never removed your phone number from my cell for some inexplicable reason, despite the fact I haven�t used it since October of 2001! Get it now? Do you know who this is??" Fortunately for me, there was no answer.

Also fortunately for me, the Oscars� this year featured no real surprises, and I fared pretty well in the Oscar� pool! Not well enough, in all truthfulness, as I did not win said pool, but out of some 24 categories I got about 17 right. Damn you, Best Sound Mixing. What the hell is that exactly, anyway? I�m sure it�s a delicate process requiring lots of skill and careful training, but�the hell? What makes sound mixing so different from sound editing? And while we�re on the topic, what the hell is sound editing?

Never mind. Let�s talk about peoples� clothes for a minute. It was really a pretty good year, as far as fashion was concerned. A few people seemed rather awkwardly wedged into outfits of unflattering cut or color, but most were just smashing (Jennifer Garner, I�m looking at you�sigh). Aaaaaand then there was Uma Thurman. She looked like she was wearing a bathrobe made out of window treatments from the Home Furnishings department at Target. Not that there�s anything wrong with Target (or window treatments, bathrobes, etc.), but none of these things say "Oscar� couture" to me. But as a child of the �80s what do I know of Oscar� couture? It�s sad that one simple decade can completely subvert your ability to discern between what is "fashion forward" and what is a "sartorial abomination". But still. What up with that dress, Uma?

It�s a thin line. But enough about clothes. Let us speak of�speeches! I actually didn�t pay much attention to them this year, which puts me squarely in the majority. I was way too preoccupied with my ballot, and the copy of InTouch magazine I was using as a writing surface, to listen to Ren�e Zellweger blather on and on about how "surprised" she was to win the award she�d been expecting for three years. Her, "Who, me?" reaction was almost flawless, though, I have to give her props for that. It just wouldn�t be the Academy Awards without a little well-rehearsed spontaneity, you know?

And speaking of well-rehearsed spontaneity, should we talk about Billy Crystal�s turn as master of ceremonies? I don�t know that I�ve laughed less in any given three and a half hours than I did last night. Well, I mean, I laughed a lot, but only because I was surrounded by witty people making rather incisively sardonic observations about the goings-on. Laughing at Billy Crystal? Not so much. I�m trying very hard to forget that part where he resorted to old man nudity for laughs in the first ten minutes of the show. Would that we could institute a second round of Nipplegate on the strength of that. I believe I will file for damages.

But despite the fact that there were absolutely no surprises (it�s not like we expected Billy Crystal to be funny, after all), it was pretty much an unobjectionable show. Well, except for Uma�s outfit. Seriously, Uma�what the hell?

Someone Got Here By Searching For: "surprise anal" And: "local woman" + "reality show" I�m Watching: Well, the Academy Awards, quite obviously. And: You know, that part beforehand, where creepy Joan Rivers judges everybody, like she�s got a botoxed leg to stand on.

A Year Ago, I Said:

"In brief, I apologize for my somewhat erratic entry from yesterday, but I was high off my ass at the time."
Dances With Wolves in Sheep�s Clothing
2-28-2003

� 2005 by Dr. No, all rights reserved; you break it, you buy it.



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