Oscar Party!

We had a really nice time at the party Sunday night. All the “Hours” d’oeuvres were yummy except the little chutney cheese balls, which I actually had to spit into my hand. You really should warn a girl if you’re going to ruin a perfectly fine food like cheese by adding chutney to it. No offense to the chutney folks out there, but damn. Keep your chutney out of my cheese!

Tanya and I tied for third place, meaning we didn’t win a thing. I got all the acting awards right but blew it for best picture and director, though honestly, how many people expected Roman Polansky to win? Not a single person at our party did, and there were nearly 40 people there. Steve Martin is hella funny. Side-bustingly so. Queen Latifah’s breasts are trying to take over the world. Was Susan Sarandon sedated to keep her quiet? Michael Moore is a tool.

Extremists piss me off so badly I could spit. Let your work speak your peace, Michael. Actions speak so much louder than words, and poorly conceived words do so much damage to a cause. Crap, I’m not sure who offends me more, him for his ill-prepared comments or the people who’s response to him has had something to do with how overweight he is. If Michael Moore pissed you off the other night and the wittiest rejoinder you can manage is to crack on his weight–you can both jump up my butt. Adrian Brody was so much classier.

Cheers!